Shor's Maidens
by eenitsedStarzz
Summary: In the small village of Shor's Stone there live three beautiful maidens. The first, a grieving widow with fiery red hair. The second, a young naïve beauty caught in the middle of the Stormcloak rebellion. And the last, a miner girl with a lame leg. A handsome stranger passes through, rocking the foundation on which their reality stands. Dragonborn/Sylgja, OC/Ulfric Stormcloak
1. Chapter 1 - The Bush

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls Series, Skyrim, or any of the characters in this story.**

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Chapter 1: The Bush

The sun had long since set, leaving in its wake a dusty gray visage scattered with twinkling stars. A faint dusting of snow laid on the cold, barren, ground. Sylgja crouched uncomfortably in the shadow of a winter berry bush watching the blond long-haired stranger. His back was to her as he stooped over a kindling fire. He was warming his hands with a huge black bow strapped across his broad back. There stood a huge black mare with a glossy mane and a wide burlap sack hoisted across its back. At the man's feet lay a great sword, the large weapon illuminated by the dancing flames reflected in the golden metal. She had never seen such impressive things. Everything in Shor's Stone was murky, faded from dirty finger tips, and soot covered clothing from the mine; Mirroring that mundane existence that plagued her daily.

Sylgja had been traveling to visit her parents when the snow started to fall. She made it almost a mile outside of Shor's Stone before turning around, deciding that she would try for Darkwater Crossing another day. Her leg had started cramping and the pain shooting from her left hip down into her feet and radiating into her lower extremities. The injury she suffered many moons ago had been lessened by a priest of Mara, but still caused her a great deal of discomfort. It was particularly painful on cold days such as this one. She had simply stopped to rest, staring at the amulet the priest had given her in parting, hoping for but a moment of comfort, before realizing that she wasn't alone.

Rubbing the scar on her thigh through her woolen pants, she hissed as a tremor stirred in her muscles. They had been occurring much more frequently lately. The cramp seized her leg and she tumbled softly onto the back part of the bush with a muted cry. The horse threw its head and neighed once, stomping its feet. Covering her mouth quickly, she glanced up at the stranger, noting with relief that he hadn't looked in her direction, merely glancing at the horse. She had to get past him to find the path that led directly to the village, but something about his presence unnerved her. Good, honest, men were hard to come across in this part of Skyrim. Bandits had been relentlessly attacking the villagers more frequently within the past few weeks. The tight muscles visible through his tunic and the leather armor strapped around his large thighs suggested he was some sort of mercenary. He was simply too equipped to be an average hunter and too clean to be an everyday bandit.

Standing suddenly, the horse now calm, he turned towards the bush and removed the bow from his back. Startled, she was awe-struck by his rugged beauty. His blond hair fell in gentle waves, around a hardened face, and past broad shoulders. His eyes were hard and unrelenting, as he peered into the bush. In the darkness they were black orbs. Surely he couldn't see her, but even if he were staring her in the face she had no doubt those eyes would see through to her very soul.

He gripped the bow with slightly tanned fingers as he snapped the string back and aimed it directly at the bush. Her heart stopped and she let out a gasp. She didn't have the strength to stand fast enough, let alone run. And she didn't have her mining axe with her to even attempt to defend herself. Not that it could deflect arrows anyway. She gripped the amulet tightly in her small hands.

"Come out, bandit." The blond man hissed.

Bandit? She was no bandit. Suddenly he fired an arrow into the space directly next to her and she froze. He took a few steps forward. Handsome or not, he was deadly - the assurance with which he held his weapon and the stealthy, but aggressive steps he took in her direction. His confidence just a warning of how capable he was with his huge bow.

Before she could even move he was upon her, and kicked her down with a rounded brown leather boot. She fell backwards, squealing. She dropped the necklace as she struck the back of her head on the lifeless ground. Tears blurred her vision as she tried to open her eyes, only to be met with a second wave of pain as he lowered the bow and twisted his fingers into her short dark curls snatching her back towards him.

"Please-" she whispered, her bosom heaving. "Have mercy, sir."

He glanced at the amulet on the ground and regarded her for a moment before releasing his grip on her hair. She tumbled uneasily onto the dirt.

He stood watching as she scooted backwards to retrieve the amulet before placing it around her neck and tucking it into her tunic. He stepped forward and gripped her upper arm while pulling her to her feet. She hissed in pain, clutching his forearms, her short fingernails cutting into his skin.

"I did not mean to harm you." He murmured. "I thought you were another bandit."

She nodded, smiled uneasily, while looking up at the handsome stranger, watching him staring into her face. The sky now fully darkened, they had to stand close to see each other in the glow of burning embers.

He walked nearer to the fire, and she followed, limping slowly in his shadow. He gestured to the log he crouched next to earlier and once she sat, he strapped his bow to his back again before removing a blanket from the sack on the horse and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"Thank you." She whispered. The light from the flames, dusting shadows across the stranger's face. He nodded, but didn't say anything. He collected his sword and crouched across from her, near the flames. Using a discarded rag on the ground he wiped it clean before returning it to the holster on his horse.

"We cannot stay here." He said, before lifting his torch from the ground and setting it in the fire. "There's too many bandits in the area to make camp. Perhaps if I were alone…"

He pulled her to her feet and with both hands around her waist he lifted her onto the large beast accompanying him. Sylgja had never rode a horse, let alone seen one this big.

Lifting the torch out of the flames, now lit, he climbed on behind her. His forearm securing her in place while he gently gripped the reins and clucked, coaxing the horse to move.

"I will escort you somewhere safer."

"I live in Shor's Stone, there's a path nearby that will lead us right to the village."

He didn't reply, but once Sylgja showed him the path and they were making their way towards the village the two fell into an almost comfortable silence and she found herself relaxing in his presence. Sylgja had never known the heat of a man. Not that there were many to choose from back home anyway. But, there was something about his strength, and his quiet demeanor, that very noticeable masculinity, that made her want to know.

The way she felt, nestled snugly between his muscular thighs, reassuring. The gentle rocking as his pelvis grinded into her too wide rear end with each gallop. The way he held her securely with only one arm loosely gripping the reins and resting across her belly. She blushed, shocked by all these thoughts going through her head. There was a heat building in her body that she had never felt before, yet wanted to know more.

Most of the young attractive women all moved away. With their lithe, delicate bodies, nearly every last one of them swept up by a handsome passerby. Only two others were left besides herself - Aela and Greta. Aela, the attractive big bosomed redhead, was already married to Filjnar the blacksmith, although it was common knowledge she'd leave him at the first opportunity. And there was Greta, Odfel's younger sister, who had moved to Shor's Stone last year, once orphaned when their parents were murdered outside of Riften. She was only seventeen years, with big blue eyes and an impish smile that charmed many, but her brother's axe scared them off. Although, a man such as this one wouldn't be fooled by Odfel with his big, round, belly and makeshift weapon.

Sylgja felt so inadequate sometimes with her dark brown hair. It was plain, curly, and unassuming, and with eyes the same color – the color of dirt, she was boring, like the quiet village she lived in. Plain, like the simple tunic she wore, held together with a worn leather belt. She could see the houses forming as they approached the quiet village. Nobody was outside this late, perhaps at one time, but now plagued by the bandit attacks and the recent reemergence of dragons they were scared and very vulnerable in their tiny mining village.

Then he spoke softly, with his deep raspy voice, startling her out of her thoughts.

"Why were you out here alone?"

"I was going to visit my parents in Darkwater Crossing, but it started to snow so I turned back."

"A maiden as delicate as you, should never travel alone."

"My leg wasn't always lame." She muttered. "And besides I was hoping to catch them before they left for Shor's Stone. I would like to have brought in the harvest this year in Riften and hoped I could convince them to reconsider. We went once several years back and they had everything decorated in the marketplace." He grunted, but didn't say anything else. So she continued and told him about how her leg had nearly gotten crushed in the mine. About how the priest had healed her, and she could at least walk now. But, being alone made things hard because she had to fetch her own water from the stream, grow her own crops, and occasionally when the others needed help, she would go into the Redbelly Mine.

Finding herself rambling she quieted, noticing that the stranger didn't seem to be listening. She turned slightly in the saddle trying to see his face. He glanced down at her, arm tightening around her waist so that she wouldn't fall from the gentle rocking of the horse. Blond hair tumbling over his shoulder, bouncing slightly from the ride. She couldn't see his face well in the dark, but he was both regal and fierce in the glow of the burning light.

"You should rest." He said.

Tightening the wool blanket tighter around her shoulders, she leaned back against his broad chest and fingered the chain around her neck. She was wearing an amulet of Mara, but she was sure he had no idea what it meant. Not that anyone else had praised her beauty, other than Odfel, but who was he to judge. With her too dark hair, her too full lips, her too wide hips, and most certainly her lame leg.

She sighed and stared off into the silence. The devilishly handsome stranger, his iron grip on both her and the torch in his other hand; like Hermes leading them both into the underworld. The darkness around swallowing them. She had nothing to fear. Surely he was the most lethal of all.

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Alright! Review and let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2 - Shor's Stone

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls Series, Skyrim, or any characters I've used except Greta and this version of the Dragonborn. I don't even own Filnjar, whose name I spelled wrong in the last chapter. You'll have to forgive me haha.**

 **Here's Chapter 2…Enjoy!**

 _Previously:_

 _She sighed and stared off into the silence. The devilishly handsome stranger, his iron grip on both her and the torch in his other hand; like Hermes leading them both into the underworld. The darkness around swallowing them. She had nothing to fear. Surely he was the most lethal of all._

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Chapter 2: Shor's Stone

The stranger eased the reins in the center of the houses right in front of the mine entrance. Pure darkness greeted them and a faint trickling of water as the stream a few feet away meandered by. He slipped off the horse swiftly, torch in his left hand still, and reached up, easily lifting her from the top of the horse with his right arm and setting her on her feet. Her leg was throbbing and there was a pressure in the back of her thighs and lower back now as well. She pulled the blanket tighter around her arms. She was hurting, and felt weak and uneasy at the thought of being alone in this darkness.

"We are here." He stated, "Once you are inside I'll take my leave." Her words caught in her throat, as she stood with her eyes transfixed on his figure. He stood unmoving, simply staring back as the torch burned in place; the flame undisturbed by the stillness of the night.

Sylgja limped towards her house and he followed silently behind her. The throbbing in her leg steadily growing worse. Once the door was unlocked and she moved to go inside she noticed that the fire had gone out at some point during the night. Shivering, she stood awkwardly in the open doorway.

"Wait." He said, as he eased past her.

He quickly found the mantle and lit the fire with his torch. She walked into the room, shutting the door softly behind her.

"Maybe you should stay here?" she offered.

He didn't say anything so she continued.

"It's very dark out and I'm sure you must be tired."

He glanced up at her and she felt that same tingling sensation in her belly. Blushing, she looked away; surely he could see the heat in her cheeks in such a small enclosed space. She hoped not. The throbbing in her leg getting worse the longer she stood there, but she continued to ignore it.

"Besides we'll be preparing for the harvest feast tomorrow. You're welcome to come if you don't have anyone to be with."

Taking another step, caught off guard and unable to catch her breath as yet another spasm seized her leg, she collapsed onto the wood floor. Eyes squeezed shut as she cried out in front of the handsome stranger. The pain was excruciating. It felt like pins and needles in her toes and the sharp radiating pain in her thigh moving like waves. Her own breathing sounding foreign in her ears as she lay hyperventilating on the floor.

She felt his hand on her shoulder before she saw him. She tried to sit up, but he pushed her back gently. Placing his hand on top of her own before removing hers from the spasming limb. Curiously, he regarded her while pressing two fingers deeply into the muscle then peered at her face. He applied more pressure to where it hurt the most on her thigh then began kneading the area with a firm, but gentle pressure. Her pants felt too tight around her legs as they all did now. She needed to stitch new pairs, but never found the time to do so. His prodding fingertips dulling the ache only slightly.

"I'll be right back." He said. She just lay there in pain, not quite sure what to do other than try and focus on her breathing.

He opened the door and stepping into the darkness, she heard him whistle for the horse. Within a moment he was back with a handful of white linen bandages. And in his other hand he held small jar of something white and almost buttery in appearance. She sat up, trying to see what was in the jar.

"This should help ease the pain." He crouched next to her, touching her leg gently. "It's swollen, so the muscle is contracting."

He gently took the blanket from around her shoulders and tossed it onto a nearby chair. He yanked her thin fur boots off quickly. Then gripped her thigh and in a swift motion sliced cleanly through the fabric with the small dagger he carried concealed within his boot. He slid the leggings from her body and removed the belt around her waist so he could flip the bottom half of her tunic up over her stomach. His cool fingers tenderly pushed her back down. She shivered in anticipation, not quite sure what to expect until she felt a cold substance being rubbed into the skin. Within moments her thigh began to feel hot and her muscle twitched in response to the soothing sensation as he kneaded the flesh like dough.

When he was finished, he wrapped her leg securely with the linens then adjusted her tunic so it covered some of her thick, creamy thighs. She was by no means fat, but she wasn't as thin as the other women in the village. Aela often berating her for the extra meat she carried from not being able to get around as well as the others. Lifting her gently, he carried her and placed her onto the full sized bed next to the mantle. Since Sylgja lived alone, there was only need for the one room.

He went to grab the blanket on the chair then made for the door.

"Wait." She whispered.

He turned slowly, eyes sparkling in the light from the fire. She went to get up and he raised his hand, telling her to stop. He walked next to the bed looking down at her.

"Will you please stay?" she asked again. "The closest inn is in Riften. I have extra furs and some bread and mead in the pantry. You'll be warm here with the fire."

He nodded, considering her offer. He sat the blanket back down then went outside to check on his mare. She would be sufficient until the morning and would warn him if there was anything to be concerned about. He returned with his sword in hand and propped it up next to the chair before removing his bow and then sitting down to remove his boots. She brought him a bottle of mead.

Sylgja lay watching him drink. Wondering if this is how the other women felt when their husbands returned home at night. His strong body moving around her house comfortably, he filled the space nicely. Mind wandering, she imagined how it would be if this became her reality. Distracted in her daydreaming she didn't realize he had been speaking.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" she queried.

"I was asking where the extra furs were."

"Oh!" she pointed to a small cupboard next to the mantle. "They're all in there, take as many as you need."

He proceeded to make a makeshift bed near the fire then laid down. He only used the furs to lay on, not to cover himself which she thought was weird. His back was towards her, since he lay facing the door. They both lay there for a while, neither speaking. They lay there for a while in the silence before succumbing to the drowsiness and falling into restless slumber.

The man made a noise in his sleep, startling Sylgja awake. Curious, she sat up to watch him. Was it a nightmare?

He stirred slightly but didn't wake up. Slowly she climbed off the bed then eased toward him. Surely he was cold. She took a couple tentative steps then realized her leg felt much better. The salve had soothed the aching deep in her muscles and removing the too tight pants helping her blood flow better. The inflammation was gone, but her limp was still there. Only, not as pronounced as before.

She bent next to him and pulled one of the blankets gently over his sleeping form. She stroked his hair once, smoothing it back behind his ear. Then before she could catch herself, she stroked his cheek softly. Admiring how his skin could be so soft, yet so rough. He had a faint inkling of a beard and the short hairs felt coarse against her fingertips. She couldn't stop touching him and found herself tracing along his jawline when he suddenly turned towards her.

She gasped as he sat up, a fire burning in his eyes as he stared into her big brown eyes.

"I-I-I'm so sorry." She whispered. "I don't know what's come over me."

He didn't say anything, just observed her for a moment. Then he lifted one rough hand and threaded his fingers into her dark curls falling just past her ears. She sighed and closed her eyes briefly. She felt his lips on her neck and shuddered, but not from the cold. He trailed his lips toward her face then pushed her back gently onto the warm fur blankets. She opened her eyes and reached for him, uncertainty in her eyes. He didn't lay down with her, instead he stretched his arms up and removed his dark tunic. His abdominal muscles rippling and she admired his chest, smooth, with only a dusting of hair.

He leaned over her and kissed her neck once more. His hair tickling her skin. Warm mouth intoxicating, as he gently coaxed her thighs apart. His cool hands prodded the soft area on her inner thighs. He glanced briefly at the linen wraps on her left leg and paused for a moment. She reached up and stroked his chest once, hesitantly. There was a large bulge at the front of his trousers. She had never seen one, but had heard all about it from some of the women in passing. When he went to remove her tunic she froze. She didn't have small perky breasts like Greta, nor her smooth, flat stomach. And she most certainly didn't have Aela's confidence or experience. She had no experience at all.

He kissed her lips.

"Little minx." He growled softly against her skin.

Nudging gently, but firmly. She felt his tongue tracing the seam of her lips, just as his hand found the thin cloth covering her most private area. She gasped, parting her lips. His tongue went in at once stroking her own. She had never felt anything like this before. His masculine woody scent overwhelming her, while his lips and hands explored her body. She clung to him with a helpless need. The aching between her thighs craving something more.

He pulled her tunic off and stared down at her full breasts resting under the bronze amulet. Tracing fingers down her soft, fleshy belly he pulled the cloth away easily. Moaning, she writhed as his lips traced the path that his fingers had foraged. She heard him shuffling as he undid the ties in the front of his trousers.

He shoved her legs apart and with one swift movement they were joined. She cried out in pain and squeezed her eyes shut. Whimpering, she clung to him, and slowly opened her eyes to see him staring into her face. Hard eyes boring into her flushed face. His blond hair swept over one shoulder, skin covered in a light sheen of sweat. Every muscle in his body tense as he held himself over her smaller frame. She screamed, it was too much for her.

With a groan he shuddered and collapsed heavily on top of her. He lay there for a moment before rolling over and readjusting his trousers. Her body was sore and with the mood wearing off quickly, she felt uneasy. She couldn't believe what had just happened. She didn't know this man. Didn't even know his name. It wasn't supposed to be like this. And although she wore the amulet, he would never marry her and she had ruined her chances for any other man. Her maidenhead being one of the only things she had to offer since she was not the most beautiful or even remotely wealthy. And he had taken that from her in but a fleeting moment.

She snatched the amulet from around her neck and threw it at him. He stood immediately, frowning. She was shocked by her behavior, but had already gone too far and felt herself losing control as she started to sob.

"Do you know what this meant!" she cried.

He didn't say anything, just watching her. He reached for her tunic and tossed it over to her before standing up and walking away. She started sobbing harder. Tears streaming down her face, she watched him as he silently walked out the door, shutting it gently behind him. The first morning's light was now upon them so she knew he'd take his leave soon, but she had almost expected he would stay for breakfast at least. She held the garment loosely in her shaking hands as she wiped her face trying to contain herself.

His items were still tossed around the chair so she wondered where he could have been going. He walked back into the little house now carrying the heavy burlap sack. Timidly, she hid her naked body beneath the warm furs they had used to lay on. Feeling guilty she stared down at her hands, twisting them in the furs. She didn't know what to say to take it back. He set the pack down and removed another linen wrap and a canteen. Pouring some water into the kettle he placed it above the fire to warm.

Peeking up, she caught him staring at her. In the light she could now see that his eyes weren't black, but in fact a steel gray. His arms were slightly bronze from being in the sun but his torso a shade lighter. His biceps tense as he leaned against the stone slab, watching her cooly. A hard look in his eyes as his golden blond hair burned amber in the glow of the fading flames.

He removed the kettle from the heat and poured the water onto the linen he held in his hand. Walking over to her, he snatched the furs back from her naked flesh and ignoring her protests he gently spread her legs and went to wipe the skin between her thighs. She gasped when she saw the red staining the cloth, her cheeks burning when she felt the heat of his cool gaze on her face. Studying her flushed skin, her parted lips, and the unkempt curls around her head - he reached up and wiped the tears from her face then finished cleaning her before tossing the rag into a small basket with soiled linens.

There was a bang on the door. He gestured for her to not move then picked up his dagger and moved closer to the door. She quickly threw her tunic over her head and replaced the cloth around her loins.

"Sylgja, is everything okay?" It was Odfel. "Greta said she heard screaming."

Had she really been that loud?

The stranger tucked his dagger into the waistline of his pants. Sylgja's throat was dry. She went to reply, but her voice cracked. Immediately Odfel kicked open the door, pickaxe in hand. Filnjar stood behind him with a small iron sword in hand and her own father next to them with a burning torch.

The stranger considered the men, but didn't reach for a weapon.

"Father!" Sylgja cried. Face burning in embarrassment. Although she was already in her twenties, he was still very overprotective.

Her father dropped the torch, which extinguished the flame, and pushed past the other two men, rushing into the home. Halting once he saw the bare chested stranger standing near the wooden dining table. Odfel and Filnjar inched behind him towards the unarmed man.

"We've got him Verner." Filnjar called. Sword aimed directly at the man.

Her father moved slowly, staring at the stranger watching them, before snatching Sylgja to her feet and ushering her towards the door. Tunic falling mid-thigh and barefooted, Sylgja stumbled. Eyeing the small crimson stain at the back of her tunic, her father turned towards the blond man and let out a cry.

"You defiled my daughter!"

The stranger said nothing to defend himself, simply staring back. Filnjar rushed him and held his sword up to the strangers neck.

"What have you to say for yourself?" He challenged. Still, the man said nothing.

Odfel jabbed him with the pickaxe.

"What you can't speak?" He growled.

Filnjar shoved the man back and raised his sword to strike. Immediately the blond man's hands clenched and he crouched slightly, with his arms flexed. Filnjar swung his sword, and stumbled when his knee gave. The man caught his arms and straining, shoved the large man towards Odfel. The two tumbling over each other as the blond snatched up Filnjar's sword and pointed it at the two on the ground. Standing slowly, they measured him; Odfel looking around hesitantly, and Filnjar, chest heaving, folded his hands into raised fists.

"Sylgja, we must go!" Her father ushered. But, she pulled away.

"Wait, please." She cried. All the men looking at her, she continued.

"He didn't hurt me." Then turning towards the stranger, she whispered, "I'm sorry."

The stranger said nothing, but lowered his sword. The other three men started yelling immediately shoving past each other to get to the tall man. She couldn't take her eye off the handsome stranger, a slight blush tinging her cheeks. Before she could say anything else, her head flew to the side with a loud smack. And grasping her wounded cheek, she stared in shock at her father's raised hand.

"You have ruined everything!" Her father cried as he shook her shoulders roughly then pointed at the blond man.

"You have defiled my daughter, when she was to wed another."

"What?" Sylgja cried out.

Cringing as her father swung again. Striking her across the mouth this time, she felt the blistering heat as her lip split. Sylgja stumbled backwards as her father raised his hand yet again.

"Enough!" The stranger said as he stepped forward shoving past the other two men easily. Filnjar let him go, not liking what he was seeing from the older man either. Odfel, however was pleased. He was angry with the girl too, but wouldn't dare strike her himself. They were still unwed.

Tasting the salty blood, she licked her lips tentatively. Odfel grimaced, looking at her swollen lip. Considering now that maybe the man had been too rough slapping his betrothed. He stepped forward reaching for her with a large meaty hand.

"Sylgja, my love…" He grumbled.

"What is the meaning of this? We were not engaged, Odfel!" She cried, but it was her father that replied.

"He asked for your hand in marriage by courier. We arrived early to accept his offer and surprise you both with our blessing for the harvest fest."

"Father, I-." She trailed off, shaking her head, gently.

"Daughter, he asked for my blessing and I was to give it. You're a woman in your early twenties and your mother and I won't be here forever. You will be wed within the month."

"I will not." She protested weakly, glaring up at the older man.

"You are lucky that any has considered you, with your short hair and that lame leg!" Her father yelled. Lowering her head, she clenched her fists in anger, but didn't know what to say.

"You refuse to marry a good honest miner, but you'll invite any random rogue into your bed?" He cried angrily, glaring at the top of her head, while she stared holes into the wooden floor. Before she could say respond, he shoved her out the door. With one last fleeting glance at the stranger she was hauled away. His strange gray eyes boring into her flushed face as he disappeared from her sight.

Outside, momentarily blinded by the brightness of the morning light, she noticed his mare grazing quietly nearby. In the center of the small village her mother and Greta were paused, in the middle of setting makeshift tables for the harvest festival. All the snow from yesterday had melted already. The two women walked closer, concerned over the sight in front of them.

Aela stood off to the side, watching, for once there was no smirk on her face as she regarded the brunette's swollen features.

"What has happened?" Annekke, Sylgja's mother, cried as she rushed forward and gathered her daughter in her arms. Gently prodding her split lip. She licked her finger and wiped the blood away before cuddling her daughter to her and smoothing her wild curls down. Sylgja hugged her mother back. Truly grateful to see her, but not under circumstances like this.

"She was violated by a man. He was in her home when we arrived this morn."

Her mother gasped and pulled away to study her daughter's face. She caressed her cheek , lightly brushing the bruise marring the skin and held back a cry.

"Sylgja is this true?" she whispered, tears running down her face. Aela walked closer to hear what was happening and Greta hugged Annekke from behind in an attempt to help console the weeping woman. With one arm she patted Sylgja's shoulder while the mother clung to her daughter.

"Nay, mother." Aela paused and both her mother and Greta stared at her in confusion.

The door to her house flung open and out walked the stranger. He was fully clothed and brandishing his weapons again. Odfel right behind him, jabbing at the retreating form with his old pickaxe. Filnjar walked calmly behind them both with his sword secured at his waist. The black mare trotted over to the man when he whistled. Sylgja shivered as she remembered the feel of his body tight behind hers on the horse. Blushing, as she remembered the feel of his arms wrapped around her as he thrust into her warm heat.

The big bow was strapped to his back again. She watched as he tucked his huge sword into the holster on his horse's saddle. He tossed the burlap sack over the saddle before removing a dark brown hood from the pack and shrugging it over his head. He went to climb upon the great beast and Sylgja pulled away from the others, rushing forward, stumbling over herself, her legs still weak.

"Wait!" she cried out, moving towards him. The man turned and glanced at her before taking a step forward.

Both her father and Odfel immediately interrupting them. Her father grabbing her and snatched her back from the blond. And Odfel, now swinging his pickaxe wildly. Sylgja watched from her father's arms as the stranger took a step backwards, before kicking out with a controlled stride and catching Odfel in his protruding mid-section. Odfel dropped the pickaxe and with a cry, still hunched over, he charged the man like a bull. The blond easily countered him with a shove and redirected his momentum towards the ground. Odfel landed, trying to push himself up, but with a wheezing cough he collapsed again when the stranger's booted foot landed on his back. Greta ran towards her brother and fell to her knees, pulling his dirty face onto her lap.

"Please, have mercy on my brother!" she cried, shyly glancing up into the stranger's face, with a slight flush on her cheeks. Blue eyes, big and bright, regarded him curiously before she lowered her lashes softly and looked away. He observed her for a moment, eyes sweeping over her beautiful, but youthful face. Sylgja was hurt. Greta was the closest thing she had to a friend in their village, but seeing her reaction to the stranger and his attention on the beautiful girl unsettled her. Her breath caught in her throat when Aela walked forward now. Her long red mane of hair swishing back and forth with each step she took, while she glared at him with her frosty emerald gaze. She went to place her slender fingers on the stranger's forearm, then thought twice about it when she caught Filnjar's eye in passing.

The blond man had watched her approach, but now in such near proximity; his view landed on her exposed cleavage in the low cut dress she wore. He looked to meet her eyes as she raised her hand to strike him. Filnjar stepped forward.

"Aela, don't." He warned. Grimacing, she stared into the stranger's face. Bitterly, she turned and stormed away, her cheeks ablaze as her husband trailed behind her.

With one last glance at Sylgja's tear-streaked face, the stranger climbed upon his horse. Pulling the hood up, his face now only a glimpse of a shadow, twin orbs glistening as he watched her for a moment. He tossed something in her direction. Looking down at the item in her hands, she saw it was the amulet. He slapped the reins down upon the horse and rode away without glancing back. Sylgja stifled a cry as she watched him go. Her mother walked up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. Her father immediately went to Greta, and helped her with Odfel. Clutching the man around his ribs, the two of them lifted the man to his feet. Catching Greta's eyes as she struggled to hold up her brother's weight, Sylgja looked away. Annekke stepped forward and took over for the small girl.

Together the two supported the portly man and helped him into his home. Sylgja glanced at Greta, as she too watched the man riding away. Sylgja walked away, wanting nothing more than to be alone right now. She went inside her tiny home and closed the door softly behind her. The furs that they had laid on were folded neatly on a chair. The salve, his dagger, and a few spare linens had been left on the table for her. She glanced briefly at the mantle. The fire still burning low. She walked over next to the burning blaze. Hit with that overwhelming sense of loneliness that she suffered every day.

She wept.

* * *

Please review and let me know what you think! Thanks again for reading, and I look forward to this next update as much as you guys.


	3. Chapter 3 - The Stormcloaks

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls Series, Skyrim, or any characters I've used except Greta and this version of the Dragonborn.**

 _Previously:_

 _She went inside her tiny home and closed the door softly behind her. The furs that they had laid on were folded neatly on a chair. The salve, his dagger, and a few spare linens had been left on the table for her. She glanced briefly at the mantle. The fire still burning low. She walked over next to the burning blaze. Hit with that overwhelming sense of loneliness that she suffered every day…_

 _She wept.  
_

* * *

Chapter 3: The Stormcloaks

Sylgja had long since changed into a loose brown cotton dress that fell to her ankles. She placed her boots back on and secured the dagger the man had left behind, at her waist. Wrapping herself in a fur shawl, she stepped outside into the cool mountainous air. The festival would be starting soon. She noticed it was significantly warmer today, although there was still a chill in the air. She also was walking a bit better. Not having the tight leggings wrapped around her legs really did make a big difference in managing the pain.

She had applied more of the salve before dressing, and noted that there was a word etched on the clear glass.

'Farengar'

Perhaps it was the stranger's name?

Sylgja took a seat on the log next to the small creek that ran alongside the settlement. Odfel was nowhere to be found, but Greta was stacking the pile of stone plates in preparation for the feast. She felt Sylgja's eyes on her and stood walking over to the dark haired woman. Sylgja went to say something, but then with a sigh she closed her mouth again.

Greta sat next to her and reached for her hand. Sylgja felt lost, although she was surrounded by everything she had ever known. And Greta, occupying the space next to her, her presence didn't offer any comfort. Looking up, she made eye contact with Aela. The woman simply stared at her. Sylgja looked away.

Looking around, she noted that she had not seen her mother since earlier this afternoon. She had been sure to busy herself with preparations once Sylgja had revealed that her father had been the one to strike her and that he had agreed to a union between her and Odfel. 'Only, if he would still have her,' he stated …considering her tryst with another man.

Sylgja looked up at her in confusion as Aela approached, bow in hand.

Greta, also curious, glanced up at the tall redhead. She stared back, eyes sweeping over her face. Feeling uneasy being scrutinized by the older woman, Greta looked away, crimson staining her cheeks.

"I wouldn't fret over what your father said. He might be too much for you, or he might not." The redhead stated. There was no bite behind that remark, just a brutally honest observation from the other woman, but Sylgja had no idea what she was talking about.

"What?" she asked.

"Your warrior." Sylgja blushed. Filnjar must have told her what happened.

"I-I don't understand." Sylgja whispered, "Are you saying that I should marry Odfel? Not that I have a choice…"

Aela shook her head, "Nay. I'm just saying that men like that live and breathe for battle. They're hard to love. " She tossed her long red locks over her shoulder and glanced at Filnjar, her eyes meeting his as he walked out of their small house.

"There's always a choice." She stated then walked away as Filnjar gestured for her, the meat now prepared to roast above the blazing fire. She left the girls to ponder over what she had said. Sylgja simply watched her and Filnjar speaking in hushed tones, as he lifted the boar onto the spit above the cooking fire.

Filnjar was not an unattractive man. He was actually quite tall and had long dark hair that fell well past his shoulders. Although not the most friendly, he had a strong sense of honor. Stony, but she saw the tender glances he often gave his outspoken wife when she wasn't looking. And he had even crafted her a bow with his bare hands as a wedding gift, while he had only been gifted two iron ingots for his forge as a dowry from her parents.

Stepping behind the girl, he embraced her softly. She, being almost a head shorter than him, fit perfectly in his arms as his chin rested on her head. Aela glanced back at him in confusion before turning around to watch the boar over the low flames.

Looking away, Sylgja noticed Greta staring at her oddly, watching her watching the young couple.

"I think you should marry Odfel. What if you're with child? What will you do then!"

"I'm not sure honestly, but I couldn't imagine raising a babe in Shor's Stone especially with no husband and no family nearby."

"Well you'll have my brother, and me of course. He'd raise the child as his own and nobody would have to know otherwise."

Sylgja frowned. She could never do such a thing. She gripped the front of her dress, twisting the material together in frustration. Greta continued rambling on. She didn't get it. Her brother protected her from every potential suitor because of her age, yet Sylgja was only four years older than the girl and he wished to marry her. Odfel was a man of nearly forty. He was old enough to have fathered her. She couldn't believe that her father would have agreed to such a thing. She was hopeless, but not that desperate.

If it were up to her, there would be no marriage. She would have left with the nameless stranger. They would be riding away now. Together, on his large horse, into the cold autumn wind. Away, from this quaint little mining village.

With a sigh she looked off into the distance, vaguely noticing a group riding in on horses. The one furthest away, carrying a blue banner, and the man in the front, wearing a giant fur coat around his shoulders held a great sword in his hand. The hood, was a giant bear's head. Big, and burly, mouth wide open in a silent growl. Inching closer, leading to a slaughter before the kill.

She shuddered, they weren't bandits, but something didn't feel right. Glancing around unsure what to do, she stumbled to her feet, calling for her father. Greta, now startled, quieted her chatter immediately. He came running out of the small house. She hesitated for a moment remembering how he had struck her across the face, but unsure of who else to call. Odfel hurried out a few moments later, pickaxe in hand. She remembered the way the stranger had used no force, yet still managed to disgrace the portly man. She would not have feared if he were here…

"What is it girl?" He yelled. "Is he back?" Rushing down the stone path he looked around wildly.

"Nay," she said bitterly, "But someone approaches."

Filnjar rushed forward with Aela at his side, having also seen the men. Filnjar holding his sword and Aela now gripped her wooden bow tightly with both hands.

"Stormcloaks!" He growled. "Quickly, arm yourselves men. Aela will lead the girls away from here." Aela glanced up at him frowning. She had was not going to leave the others behind.

Verner looked around for Annekke, but she was nowhere to be seen. "Where is your mother?" He cried.

Sylgja shook her head in uncertainty. "I haven't seen her!"

"Annekke!" He called.

She rushed out from behind the houses, carrying a cluster of berries with the bottom half of her apron. Glancing amongst the small group she happened to notice the Stormcloaks closing in near the horizon. She dropped the berries and quickly equipped the small bow on her back.

"Filnjar, what should we do?" She cried. "Where will the girls go? They'll raze the village-there's nowhere safe here!"

"Aela will lead them to the caverns." He shoved her gently towards the other two girls. "If we should make it, we will join you there." Aela didn't say anything. She had no intention of leaving. Sylgja, although feeling a giant knot in her stomach, simply nodded. Unsure of how any of them remaining behind would survive, and doubtful that the three of them really stood a chance in getting away. Aela was the only one armed and a bow was no good in close range. She had no sword, not that she could wield one. Grateful that she had the little dagger at least. Anything was better than nothing.

You must go now, quickly!" He yelled.

"I will not be run out of my own home." Aela growled. "I can fire as good as any! I will stay and fight. Who else would you have by your side? Annekke is but one archer."

"Nay, child, your husband is right." Annekke cried. "Wedded or not, they will steal you away. You must take the girls and go. We're no match for Ulfric and his best men, but we have to do something."

"I will not!" Aela challenged. "I will go nowhere."

"Child-" Annekke started, quickly glancing at the men gaining on the small village. There are at least seven men riding upon us! Verner is no warrior and Odfel, though he be willing, is still injured. He doesn't even have a sword. We are no match for them." She snatched the girl's arm and pushed her towards the dense wooded area behind them.

Turning, she noticed Sylgja and Greta still standing there hesitantly.

"What are you waiting for? Go!" She screamed.

And they went.

Aela stood where she was…watching them, fearful for the two girls. Sylgja was already stumbling in the woods and Greta, although small and agile, was hopeless on her own. She prayed the army of men wouldn't find them on the trail. They'd be vulnerable if the men caught up to them. There were no holds nearby, just the vast, empty pass. Briefly, she wondered what would have happened if Verner and Odfel hadn't scared the stranger out of their tiny village. Her anger towards him had cooled once Filnjar had told her what really happened. They could have used the extra help.

Meeting eyes with Annekke, she raised her bow. Standing poised - red hair fluttering around her face, it rippled with each harsh autumn breeze. The older woman frowned, although she admired her courage. The girl was as strikingly beautiful as she was brave. Nobody in all of The Rift could shoot an arrow as good as the young fiery redhead. Not even Filnjar or herself. She had been taught well. Shortly after their marriage two winters ago, Filnjar had gifted her with the bow. She easily surpassed his teachings within only a few months; however she never mastered the sword, his weapon of choice.

Straining, Aela held her bow in place. Her hands shook, so she gripped it tighter. Looking around at the others, she felt the panic settling in. They were no match for these soldiers. Dread settling in her gut, she would die in this miserable town. Filnjar eyeing the men, stopped to glance over at her. He could see the fear in her eyes, but he remained stoic. He nodded at her and she smiled grimly in response, his eyes still on her as she looked away. The men were upon them.

Two soldiers, horses skidding to a stop, dismounted in front of the small group. Filnjar immediately charged, meeting the first in battle, while Verner and Odfel, axes swinging, took down the other soldier, but a moment too late. He had backed away from them, swinging his torch he set the first house ablaze, then moved towards the next. Annekke fired an arrow through his back before turning back to the men rushing by on the brown horses. The soldier fell to the ground. The third, Sylgja's home, was left untouched. Aela continued launched arrow after arrow at the men on horseback. Only striking one as the Stormcloaks quickly stampeded through the crowd, rushing into the dense foliage to pursue the two maidens. Turning, and seeing her home burning to the ground. Aela screamed in rage.

* * *

They had ran for a while, and Sylgja couldn't run anymore. Truly they hadn't gone far, but the pain in her leg was too great, she needed to find somewhere to hide and quickly. She would never make it to the caverns. The Stormcloaks weren't the least bit slowed by the others. She could hear the hooves pounding behind them.

Spotting the small ledge up ahead, she shoved Greta towards it. The small blonde scurried up quickly. If she could just make it past this first set of mountainous terrain, it was only a short distance to the caverns. The soldiers would never be able to navigate the maze and just as quickly as they searched, the girls would be able to maneuver around to new hiding spots. Sylgja went to follow as best as she could, but her leg gave out when she went to jump. Wide-eyed she slid backwards off the stones. The younger girl glanced back at her, her blonde hair was messy and she had a few streaks of dirt across her face from the branches they rushed through earlier in the pass.

"Get to the caverns!" She whispered, "Go inside, but not too deep. You'll get lost."

"What about you?" She whispered back.

"I'll do my best to meet you there." With a nod, the girl was off.

She looked around for somewhere to hide quickly, now that the remaining soldiers were upon her. There was no way that she could outrun them. She could barely move her leg. A horse whinnied, not even several yards away. Sylgja crawled away from the ledge hoping that she could at least lead the men in a different direction and give Greta more time to get away. She spotted a large boulder and rushed behind it. It would have to do.

Peeking around it, she saw it was only one Stormcloak. The soldiers must have split up. He carried a small war axe in his left hand. His short dark brown hair, disheveled, he swept his bang back with one hand. He wore a thin chain mail tunic with a blue shawl that ran from his shoulder to waist. It was secured in place by a thick black belt. She quickly turned around and leaned back against the rock, trying to be as quiet as possible.

He dismounted. She could hear his rough footsteps as he explored the area. Every twig he stepped on cracked under the pressure of his weight. Every leaf left a crisp, clean, crunch. Then there was nothing, but silence. She turned slowly to peek around the rock in the direction that she had last heard him and immediately leaned back, biting her lips to stifle a scream. He was standing right next to the boulder. She panicked, not knowing what to do. Quietly, she pulled the dagger out of her waistband. Clutching it in both hands, she steadied herself -ready to aim for his face or neck. Otherwise the small dagger would be useless. It would never penetrate his armor.

The man suddenly jumped in front of her. She swung the dagger at his face and stepping back, he knocked it from her hands easily. Sylgja tumbled to the ground when the man slapped her already bruised skin. Clutching her cheek, she looked up into the man's leering face. Dark hair falling over one eye, he reached for her again. She scurried backwards. The throbbing in her leg worse than ever. She could barely stand.

An arrow sliced through the air and struck him clean through the forehead. He collapsed instantly. Sylgja looked up and Aela stood only a couple yards away, bow still raised. She sprinted towards the brunette and helped the other girl up.

"You need to hide." She said.

"What about you?" Sylgja cried.

Aela tossed her long red hair back over her shoulder. Green eyes narrowed she frowned at the brunette.

"I can hold my own against any man."

"Aela, these are real warriors." She retorted.

"Am I not?"

"You are the best archer in The Rift, but what happens if they come upon you with swords?"

Aela smiled ruefully.

"We'll find out then won't we?"

Sylgja went to protest further, but paused as Annekke rushed up, now carrying an iron sword. The two embraced quickly.

"Good, I'm glad you're still okay." She looked around before asking, "Where's Greta?"

"She ran on ahead," Sylgja replied. "And the others?" Annekke nodded.

"Odfel took the Western path that curves around the mountain. Hopefully they run into each other quickly."

"He'll never make it in time, we stand a better chance of catching up to her." Aela muttered. "Lazy bastard."

"Odfel loves his sister, Aela, and he's a good man." Annekke retorted as they quickly observed the surrounding area looking for traces of any more soldiers. Verner had gone east with Filnjar and while one old and one injured, the two as long as they stayed together should be able to manage to buy the girls some time.

"More like a good for nothing man."

Sylgja shook her head. Even in a moment like this Aela could still find it in her to fit in a scathing remark. At least she wasn't the focus of the scorn, this time.

A shrill scream pierced the air and Annekke and Aela sprinted due North. Sylgja tried to keep up, but couldn't. The two women looking back at her, slowing.

"Go!" Sylgja shouted. Annekke gestured for Aela to go on ahead, as she ran back towards her daughter.

* * *

Aela came upon Greta being held by the large man, the leader. She raised her bow and studied the man. His hood was lowered now. She noted that he had shoulder length dirty blond hair with a few strands twisted into a loose braid. The small girl was squirming to get away, but he just laughed. He had a jolly, hearty chuckle, for such an imposing man. The thick beard and the scars on his face clearly aging him. She didn't have a clean shot and was afraid she'd strike the girl.

Filnjar was skirmishing with a few smaller men off to the side and Verner lay unconscious on the ground. She couldn't tell if he were dead or not from her vantage point. She raised her bow, launching an arrow swiftly through the passing, catching a man in the shoulder, while he was mid-swing behind Filnjar's back. He dropped his sword, clutching his arm. She quickly released two more arrows, both into his back. The thin chain mail they wore, was not sufficient protection for the steel arrows that she was launching; He quickly dropped to the ground.

Greta suddenly threw all her weight down, slipping away from the man. Aela went to reach for another arrow finding the pack attached to her back was now empty. She was officially unarmed and unable to do anything from here to help the small blonde trying to scurry away. So, she started sprinted quickly towards the clearing.

The big bear man raised his arm, brandishing a horse whip and snapped it down quickly. The whip cut through the air, slicing though the skin on the small blonde's face. She screamed, falling to her knees sobbing. Crimson stained her pale cheek. He snatched her small form and threw her across the back of his fierce black stallion then jumped up behind her.

Filnjar rushed forward, having defeated the other men. He stood with his iron sword raised and challenged the leader. He was immediately kicked back and tumbled when his knee gave out again. The big man laughed heartily, his chest shaking. Greta tried to slide off the horse, but the man gripped her tightly against him. Leering at Filnjar, he goaded him.

"You are a weak man."

Filnjar jumped up again, readying his sword. Gripping it tightly in both hands, he spit at the man's feet. The large man stopped laughing immediately and pulled his sword out of the holster at his waist. With one quick, clean stroke, he sliced across the dark haired man's neck. Filnjar dropped his sword and grasped feebly at the blood squirting out of the wound.

Aela screamed as he dropped to his knees. Her long legs still carrying her towards the group as her fiery red hair billowed behind her. The big man hopped up on the horse and rode off with his remaining men in tow. He didn't even spare a glance at the man bleeding out on the ground or his own man with arrows protruding out of his back.

Aela, now reaching Filnjar's collapsed form, dropped the bow and clutching his lean form to her, tried in vain to slow the bleeding with her bare hands. He stared up into her bright green eyes, opening his mouth to speak, a single tear fell down his cheek.

"I love you." She whispered, then kissed him sweetly on the lips. "Please don't leave me."

She watched sobbing as he choked on his own blood, the light leaving his eyes. He took one last shuddering breath then silenced. She wailed a long mournful cry as her body shook with each heart-breaking sob.

Her heart shattered.

Already feeling lost without the man she often held in disdain, truly feeling guilty for never showing him the tenderness he deserved, and now feeling more alone than ever.

Odfel crept out from behind a nearby bush.

"Aela." He whispered. "Are they gone?"

"You fat bastard!" Aela screeched, before attacking Odfel. She beat him in the face until his nose was bloody. When he tried to shield his head from her hits, she started kicking him. Annekke and Sylgja made it into the clearing then. Sylgja let out a gasp when she spotted Filnjar's bloody lifeless body and her father laying on the ground not too far away. Annekke hurried over and to Verner as he started to stir.

Then she walked up to Aela and placed a hand on her shoulder. Sylgja was frozen in place. Watching as the redheaded girl whirled around wildly. Tears in her eyes, she started to reach for the older woman then decided against it and slapped her hands away.

"You only watched!" She screamed in disbelief.

"You let them take your innocent little sister." She growled at the man before kicking him once more. "Then you watched them kill him, while you hid like the worthless pig you are!" Snatching up her bow, she stalked away.

Sylgja tried to follow after the other girl. Moving weakly on unsteady legs, as the intense throbbing was back, she walked slowly. There was blood everywhere and she couldn't stop trembling at the sight of it. Aela had wandered into the dense wooded area somewhere. She wanted to comfort the other woman, but couldn't move fast enough to catch up to her. Filnjar was dead, her father barely alive, and Greta was gone.

"Aela." She called. "Where are you?" There was no answer. She'd waited a few more moments then tried again. Still no answer. Nothing but silence greeted. Eventually, she heard the steady flow of the creek, but still, no Aela.

* * *

Please review and let me know what you think. With the holiday over, it's back to work. So my updates won't be as quick, sadly.


	4. Chapter 4 - The Morning After

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls Series, Skyrim, or any characters I've used except Greta and this version of the Dragonborn.**

Previously:

 _Moving weakly on unsteady legs, as the intense throbbing was back, she walked slowly. There was blood everywhere and she couldn't stop trembling at the sight of it. Aela had wandered into the dense wooded area somewhere. She wanted to comfort the other woman, but couldn't move fast enough to catch up to her. Filnjar was dead, her father barely alive, and Greta was gone._

* * *

Chapter 4: The Morning After

Sylgja sat alone on the stoop in front of her little house. Her father's limp form was currently resting in her small, but warm bed. Her mother, Annekke, had left a short while ago to find help - leaving for Riften in the hope that one of the priests could return to see about healing Verner and for assistance in giving Filnjar a proper burial.

Although she didn't feel comfortable leaving Sylgja, somebody had to wait for Aela in case she returned and to tend after the injured man. Taking one of the brown horses abandoned by the slain Stormcloaks, she left for the hold. The Stormcloaks were still out there, but having razed the village and leaving with Greta as his trophy, she had doubts that Ulfric would be back. There was nothing left to destroy. There was nothing left to take. Neither Odfel nor Annekke had mentioned the girl, although she had seen the worry on their faces as they whispered in hushed voices moments before Annekke left.

Odfel walked out of the small house, standing awkwardly he stared down at Sylgja's smaller form. Shaking her head softly, she started sobbing again. She still couldn't believe that Filnjar was dead and prayed that Greta wasn't as well. Neither said anything, just craving that silence. Gazing out at the wreckage, she wished that this was all just a dream. The few crops growing behind Odfel and Greta's home had perished with the flames. At Aela and Filnjar's home, only the forge was intact. Everything else withered away.

Sylgja sat watching Odfel as he walked around her tiny home. She still hadn't said anything to him, not that there was anything she could say. His house had burnt to the ground, and his sister stolen right under his nose.

"It's getting late, Sylgja." He said. "You should rest. Your mother will be back by dawn."

She nodded, but made no attempt to move.

"I'll keep watch." He ushered. "Do you want me to lay some furs on the floor for you?"

"Nay." She whispered. There was no way she could sleep right now. Verner, groaning in pain, rolled onto his side. Tremors seized his body, breathing shallowly he shuddered as if he were cold. Sylgja, observed him for a moment. Noticing a few beads of sweat along his forehead she grabbed one of the linen wraps off the table and walking over to the kettle, she removed the lid and dipped the rag in the now cool water. Moving over to her father, she ran the cool rag along the side of his face. His tanned skin was clammy. Settling, his breathing calmed as Aela stormed into Sylgja's small home.

Her once bright green eyes were red and swollen. Her face sullen. Sylgja jumped to her feet, rushing to embrace the other woman. Fury blazing in her eyes as they eyes settled onto Odfel, now standing near the mantle. She was still livid. Feeling uncomfortable with her eyes him, Odfel started moving towards the door.

"I need some air." He said as he promptly eased out the narrow doorway, "I'll just be right outside."

Turning back to Sylgja as Odfel closed the door gently, Aela stated, "I'm leaving tomorrow."

"To where?" Sylgja asked softly.

"Whiterun." She replied. "I'm going to the Companions for help."

Sylgja nodded, although she didn't know much of the hold. Being centrally located, there was a large market for trade. She stood watching the taller woman storm around the small space, taking short choppy steps as she paced back and forth. Sylgja had finally calmed down enough to stop crying, but watching Aela unable to calm herself was unsettling.

"I won't let Filnjar's death have been in vain." She said. Sylgja touched her arm softly. Aela stopped moving and glanced at her a moment. Tears forming in the corner of her eyes.

"And I won't leave Greta to die." She whispered. "Filnjar used to talk of their heroic deeds. He once wanted to join."

"What happened?" Sylgja asked.

"He took an arrow to the knee." She chuckled mirthlessly then shook her head slightly, "Said adventuring wasn't for him anymore."

She walked away from Sylgja and the brunette stood limply, watching, waiting. Looking for some kind of answer. Aela was so sure of what she wanted, what she needed. Sylgja could only hope for that kind of clarity. The closest she had ever experienced that was in that moment with the handsome stranger. There had been no expectations; he didn't know her as Sylgja, the miner girl with the lame leg. There was no judgment or pity. She was free to be who she wanted. Sighing, she glanced at the door as Odfel came back in and took a seat at the dining table.

The girls quieted as he made himself comfortable. His back towards them, as he faced the door. Within only a few moments he slumped forward in slumber. Snoring softly, his large belly rose and fell with each breath.

"What about you?" Aela whispered suddenly. "There's nothing for you here. Will you go to Darkwater Crossing with Odfel and your parents?"

Sylgja turned and her eyes landed on the jar of salve that was still on the table. She lifted the jar off the table, examining the name once more.

Aela watched her, while she stared at the jar. She didn't pry, but there was more behind it. Granted, a lot had happened, but even before the raid Sylgja had already seemed different. Being with the stranger had changed her somehow and not necessarily in a bad way.

"Nay," she whispered. "I will not."

It was just a short while to dawn. Both Sylgja and Aela had slept on the pallet on the floor. Stirring, the girls woke one by one. A ray of sunshine beaming across the cold wooden floor brightened the room instantly. Yawning, Aela stretched her arms above her head. She had a restless sleep, but was anxious to leave. Feeling Sylgja's brown eyes on the back of her neck, she turned. Odfel was already gone.

"Can I go with you?" the girl asked suddenly. Aela considered her for a moment, before nodding.

Sylgja smiled gently. Aela's hardened expression unchanging.

"We'll have to gather a few things." Aela said. "I'll see what I can salvage after the memorial."

Sylgja nodded. After the other woman walked out, she quickly grabbed a small sack and packed everything the man had left behind, including the blanket and the salve. She shoved two furs, her other dress, a few rolls of bread, and the amulet into the pack as well. That was all that would fit. She wished she had a canteen, but she never traveled anywhere to need one. Glancing around the room, there was nothing else in particular that she needed to bring. The dagger was already secured into her waistband. She snatched the bag off the table and walked out the door.

Annekke was here already, having arrived with the priest and one of the priestesses by horse and cart. The priestess was walking towards the home. Carrying a vial in one hand and a small purple sack with long stems extending out of the small opening, she greeted the two women. Offering her condolences to Aela, she proceeded to enter the home.

Odfel and the owner of the cart were lifting Filnjar off the back. His body having already been retrieved and altar of sticks constructed in the center of the town. Reaching the altar they placed him gently upon it and lightly wrapped his body in a soft white linen shroud. The priest lifting the edge gently and removed the man's wedding ring and handed it to Aela. Her knuckles white as she clutched it to her chest, while the priest mumbled something to her quietly. His sword placed upon the body.

Everyone stopped moving and was now focusing on the older man. He turned, and lifting up the bronze amulet in his hands he said, "We grieve, at this loss….we weep, for the fallen…and for ourselves, we take our leave." Aela, placing his ring on her index finger, stepped forward and removed the sword from atop the shroud. Holding it in one hand, she watched as they set the body alight. Flames transforming the clean, white shroud into a dull black as it burned with his body.

* * *

Alright! Please review and let me know what you think. Thanks in advance!

~ES


	5. Chapter 5 - Aela the Huntress

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls Series, Skyrim, or any characters I've used except Greta and this version of the Dragonborn.**

Previously:

 _Aela, placing his ring on her index finger, stepped forward and removed the sword from atop the shroud. Holding it in one hand, she watched as they set the body alight. Flames transforming the clean, white shroud into a dull black as it burned with his body._

* * *

Chapter 5: Aela the Huntress

Annekke hadn't taken it well at all when Aela said she was leaving for Whiterun. The girls had spent the last two days at her home in Darkwater Crossing. Odfel, had stayed at the pub, while the townspeople worked on building his home. He made it clear every day that once it was finished he intended on marrying Sylgja. There had been no mention of the Stormcloaks that had ran off with his sister. They hadn't always seen eye to eye, but Aela still felt a compelling need to rescue Greta. After all, Filnjar had died while trying to save her, so there was no way that she would let his death have been in vain.

Her father was still recovering, although he was breathing better, he was still in a great deal of pain from the blow to his chest that the Stormcloak had delivered. Sylgja had no intention of marrying Odfel like her parents expected her to, and Aela could see how the girl, although grieving, was still pining after the stranger that had left. Aela knew that having her along would slow the journey to Whiterun, but there was no way she could leave her behind. So, when Sylgja had asked to come along, she agreed.

Hopefully, the brunette would be reunited with the man soon and possibly he would consider helping if the Companions proved to be no assistance. Whiterun was still neutral in the uprising, Filnjar had told Aela that the Jarl was taking his time in making a public decision. While, he blatantly supported the Imperials, there was a clear advantage to such a central location remaining neutral.

They had walked for hours, instead of taking the shorter, steep path around the mountains, they traveled North along the Black River in hopes that they didn't encounter any more bandits or dangerous terrain. Sylgja's whole body hurt from sleeping in the cramped space at her mother's home and her leg was throbbing. She'd need to apply the salve again once they stopped to rest, although she was unsure when that would be. It was already midday and they kept moving in hopes that they could at least make it to an inn on the way to Whiterun. It would be a few days journey on foot, possibly longer given the route that they were taking, the extra weight they carried from the supplies, and the state of Sylgja's leg.

Hearing a shriek, the girls stopped dead in their tracks, before hesitantly taking a few more tentative steps. Another shriek, this time a long mournful cry.

"What was that?" Sylgja cried looking about wildly.

"I have no idea." Aela replied quietly, as she removed the bow from her back and glanced around.

Suddenly an arrow landed next to Aela's right leg. Both girls scurried back, glancing at each other briefly. There was nowhere to hide. They had finally arrived to the stone path and were surrounded by nothing but mountainous caverns in the distance and mile after mile of desolate wasteland. Aela took a few hurried steps wondering where the arrow could have come from. Sylgja trembled, only holding a dagger, she was vulnerable. An arrow flew past her ear, brushing through her the short brown locks, and catching her cheek. She cried aloud, wiping at the blood briefly before turning around and gasping. There was a creature behind them them. It appeared to be a woman, wearing a revealing set of fur armor and holding a bow in her left hand. Seeing the women watching her, the creature started to dash towards the duo.

"What is that?" Sylgja gasped as she backed up, prepared to defend herself best as possible with the small dagger she grasped in her hands. Aela raised her bow, eyes focusing on the creature running towards them.

"A Falmer I believe," she yelled, "Filnjar said they're cannibals and that the caverns are swarming with them at night."

Sylgja had never seen anything like this in her life. The creature was as agile as it was unsightly and dangerous. Hopefully Aela could strike it before it was upon them.

Hands shaking as she tried to steady her aim, Aela couldn't control her grip. The Falmer was charging at her, now wielding a medium sized axe. It was made of stone and some sort of bone with a menacing hook on the end. The deformed being swung at her head and she ducked. Then moved for Sylgja, who started swinging the little dagger wildly in hopes that it would deflect the monstrous being. Aela struck the Falmer with the front of her bow, and fumbling, she dropping the arrow. She quickly jumped back as her blow was parried; only narrowly evading the attack when she tripped over the back of her dress. It would have cut clean across her midsection.

Tumbling, she rolled once before rushing to her feet again. Not knowing what else to do, she snatched the arrow off the ground and stabbed the monster in the neck. The Falmer shrieked, before dropping to the ground writhing in pain as the arrow sticking out of the side of her neck stymied the blood trying to gush out of the wound. Aela took a couple steps back before raising her bow, this time with steady hands, and released an arrow right into the creature's head. The creature ceased moving immediately. Sylgja let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.

Aela quickly began to undress, shrugging her lean body out of the torn dress. Sylgja watched, mortified, as she changed into the fur armor. Standing over the Falmer's nude body she bent and touched her fingers to its still pulsing neck. Rubbing the blood lightly with her fingertips she suddenly smeared it across her face. She stay crouched like that for a moment before turning and looking at Sylgja. Wind-kempt hair, blood painting her face, and with the furs wrapped around her body like armor, Aela looked all the part of the huntress she boasted to be.

Saying nothing, she gestured for the brunette to follow her. Sylgja hesitated before scurried after the red head, dagger clutched tightly in her hand.

They came across a clearing, night was approaching; the sky, a glorious blend of purple and pink. There wasn't a single cloud in sight. In the near distance Aela spotted a campfire burning. They could stop for a moment to rest and eat. Not that either of them knew how to start a fire in the wilderness anyway. This would probably be their only chance to eat something warm tonight. She crept closer to the fire. Glancing around cautiously, there was no one nearby, but she spotted a small brown hare hopping nearby. Aiming, she quickly launched an arrow into its side. It dropped immediately. She glanced back at Sylgja, the brunette was still looking around nervously.

"Quickly." She whispered, rushing to retrieve the meal.

"Are we stopping?" Sylgja whispered back.

"Yes, just for a moment. That fire is burning pretty strong, so whoever stoked it can't be too far." Sylgja nodded and followed right on her heels.

They both sat next to the fire. Aela tossed the small prey next to the brunette, looking at her expectantly. Wide eyed, Sylgja stared right back.

"What are you waiting for?" Aela hissed.

"Me?" Sylgja cried, "You're the huntress. I've never had to do this before!"

"Yes, HUNT, not cook!" Sylgja glared at her.

"It goes hand in hand!"

"Beasts and bandits aplenty, but we're to die of starvation." Aela chuckled.

"Oh hush!" Sylgja cried, "We'll have none of that!" She tossed her pack at Aela, and two rolls of bread tumbled out. She snatched up the tiny hare by its hind legs and laid it gently across her lap. She was unsure where to start. Brandishing the little dagger, she started to scrape at the skin delicately, while Aela watched. After a few moments, the redhead scooted closer peering at the rabbit then glanced at the other girl in disdain. She huffed.

"Are you scalping it or petting it?!" Sylgja scoffed, her jaw falling slack. She had a few beads of sweat across her forehead.

"Move!" Aela fussed, "Give it here." Sylgja shoved the rabbit towards the other girl then stood to her feet.

"I'll see if I can find something else for us to eat in the meantime. We'll save the bread for the meat." Aela nodded once.

Then glancing up at the brunette, her red hair ablaze in the firelight, she stated, "Don't go too far we'll be safer together." Sylgja nodded, shivering slightly as she looked around. Spotting a bush a few yards away with clusters of white berries on it, she hurried over and started picking the berries, collecting them in the front part of her dress, bustled in her small hands. Peeking up at Aela scalping the hare, she shuddered.

She had used the meat to make many stews back in Shor's Stone, but had never once considered the fact that although she lived alone she hadn't had to do much on her own because of her injury. Odfel and her parents always brought meat for her and skinned it, before packing it in salts for her to store. Greta always helped her pick vegetables from the small community garden. And, quite frequently, Filnjar would bring fish from the creek, and supplies from his trips into Riften and on occasion Windhelm. Although, he had stopped going to Windhelm as frequently once issues started arising from Ulfric, the hold's Jarl. Filnjar had hoped to avoid confrontation with the Stormcloaks, but the battle had still been brought to their small village during the raid.

The others took pity on her and she had always taken it for granted. Now, out here in the wilderness she was completely clueless and feeling a bit overwhelmed, but it was too late to turn back, even if she wanted to. Mildly she wondered how Greta was doing, if she was still alive. Having only blossomed into a woman just two summers ago, the girl could be feisty at times, but when it came to men she was very timid. A trait that many of the passerby's found endearing. She often talked wistfully about being swept away by a handsome passerby. And now she was, and she was gone.

"I wouldn't eat those." A smooth, deep, voice said, from behind.

Sylgja whirled around, as Aela jumped to her feet.

There were two dark haired men approaching, both leading horses by the reins. The taller one was slightly slimmer and walked alongside a chestnut brown mare, while the other man had slightly longer hair and led a startling white steed. The resemblance between the two men was uncanny. Both with wavy dark hair and striking blue eyes. Although the shorter one had a scar that ran across his right eyelid onto his cheek

"They're juniper berries." The taller man continued. "They won't kill you, but they're better for potions. The winterberries on the bush just a few feet away are more edible."

Still clutching her dress like an apron, Sylgja turned slowly and peeked behind her. Immediately she spotted the red winterberries that the man suggested instead. Turning, she glanced over at Aela who was now inching closer to the brunette woman with her bow clutched in her hands. The women said nothing. He glanced briefly at Sylgja, her shorter form hunched over slightly, before studying the red-head long and hard. His eyes sweeping over her slender form. Admiring the way the fur clung to her womanly shape.

The shorter man took a few steps forward. His voice hoarse.

"We mean no harm." He croaked. "But, night will be upon us and you're a bit far from any of the keeps."

Aela opened her mouth to speak, but Sylgja quickly interrupted. Now was their chance to leave The Rift and hopefully for good. Getting to Whiterun on their own was going to be difficult and Sylgja could see that riding with these men would save a great deal of time, plus they would be safer in a group of that size.

"We are going to Whiterun." She stated then glanced briefly at the other woman.

"Whiterun you say?" The taller one stated. "Well I'll be damned. We were headed there as well." The shorter man stood tense looking at something in the distance, as the taller one regarded her for a moment then glanced at Aela.

"Business or pleasure?" He inquired.

"Certainly none of your business." The red-head retorted. He chuckled mirthfully.

The shorter man elbowed his brother, before gesturing to something in the sky. The girls turned to look, but saw nothing. The sun was still setting, although faintly visible there was a dark shadow in the horizon.

"Come quickly." He gestured for the women to follow. "You can both ride along with us. It's only about a days journey."

Sylgja squealed inside, almost unable to contain herself. Her eyes sparkling brightly with glee. She quickly dropped the berries and rush to hug the man. Startled, he patted her back and stepped away still chuckling as he regarded the unlikely duo.

"I'm Farkas." He stated, "And this is my brother Vilkas. We are members of the Companions Guild in Whiterun."

Aela gasped and peering into his face, as if seeing him truly for the first time. She inquired.

"The Companions? As in the legendary Companions?"

He grinned, although it didn't meet his eyes. He seemed distracted. The shorter man was still frowning, as he reached for Aela. Sensing that there was something going on, she didn't question their motive although given normal circumstances she would have been skeptical to ride off with these men claiming to be Companions. If true, they must be the twins that Filnjar had told her about.

Both men grinned, although Vilkas' was more of a slight turn of his lips and Farkas an all-out type of grin. The resemblance between the two men was undeniable. Vilkas had the same bright eyes as his brother, but his face was wider and more grim; with worry lines etched across his forehead and around his wide lips.

"The one and only…now come along." Farkas said. In the distance there was a faint, but rumbling growl.

"What was that?" Aela asked. Eyes wide, she searched around with her bow raised.

"Dragon." Vilkas muttered.

"Dragon?" Sylgja gasped, "I thought they were just myths!"

"Nope." Farkas replied, "No more myth than the Dragonborn."

"The dragonborn is real?"

"As real as you and me." He winked.

"Quit teasing." Aela snapped, eyes roaming the empty prairie.

"But I'm not, my dear." He looked up in the clouds, a bit of uncertainty looming on his face, although he still wore the goofy grin on his face. "And I'll prove it when we get to Whiterun."

"How will you prove it?" She asked.

"I'll introduce you to him. He's awfully quiet, for having the gift of the voice." Aela scoffed.

"It's true." Vilkas said, "And he has a bow as black as the night and a golden sword as bright as the sun." Sylgja gasped, her eyes shining brightly with hope as she glanced at Aela before turning back to the man as she listened intently.

Aela frowned, unsure whether she should jump to the same conclusion as the brunette. Yes, the stranger had a quiet sort of strength about him. Yes, he had the black bow and the golden sword, but surely those were common weapons outside of Shor's Stone. The men in the village were just miners and too poor to possess gaudy weapons. Although his weapons were a little too magnificent, and although his clothing was plain, his trousers and his tunic were meticulously well taken care of. He was no commoner. Could he surely be the dragonborn? But why would he be in Shor's Stone? It didn't make sense.

"They say there's some kind of enchantment that was cast on his bow, but you'll have to ask Farengar about it once we arrive since he's the one that did the spell." Sylgja's heart leapt into her throat.

"Farengar…" she tested the name on her lips. It didn't feel right, perhaps because she had not heard it from him.

"Quickly!" Vilkas snapped as he glared at his brother. "We don't have much time before the dragon will be upon us. We must find cover."

Sylgja gasped as she turned to the sky. There it was. The black beast. From this distance its scales looked smooth as leather, not jagged like she had always been led to believe from the legends. It glided nimbly above the Velothi mountains, not too far in the west, before whipping around and staring right at the group.

Frozen in place, all she could do was stare, as the scaled beast suddenly spread its wings wide and dove towards them with a ferocious roar. Its tail flexed bone straight, as it trailed behind the monstrous body like an arrow piercing the sky. Large red eyes meeting hers - hypnotizing like a blood moon. And she knew then, the dragon was coming for her and her only.

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Thank you so much for those of you that have reviewed. I appreciate you all and hope that you enjoyed this chapter that I know you've been waiting for. This has certainly evolved into a work completely different than I originally imagined, but I can't say I'm disappointed at all. Please review and let me know what you think of this update. Thanks guys!

~ES


	6. Chapter 6 - Dragonborn

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls Series, Skyrim, or any characters I've used except Greta and this version of the Dragonborn.**

Previously:

 _Sylgja gasped as she turned to the sky. There it was. The black beast. From this distance its scales looked smooth as leather, not jagged like she had always been led to believe from the legends. It glided nimbly above the Velothi mountains, not too far in the west, before whipping around and staring right at the group._

 _Frozen in place, all she could do was stare, as the scaled beast suddenly spread its wings wide and dove towards them with a ferocious roar. Its tail flexed bone straight, as it trailed behind the monstrous body like an arrow piercing the sky. Large red eyes meeting hers - hypnotizing like a blood moon. And she knew then, the dragon was coming for her and her only._

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Chapter 6: Dragonborn

Aela gripped the bow in her hands as she stared at the ferocious beast flying directly towards them. Its mouth was moving, but she couldn't understand anything other than a series of growls and rumbles, although it sounded like it was saying something. Vilkas held his great axe and stood rigid, ready to swing for the beast's head, while Farkas held his shield up high with his left arm and swung a few practice swings with the long sword in his right hand before brushing a stray lock of hair away from his dirty face. The three moved around consecutively in formation, focusing on the dragon. Farkas couldn't keep his eyes off the fiery red-head, admiring the determination in her gaze as she released arrow after arrow at the beast - all of which it slapped away with its monstrous wings.

It stopped to hover a few meters above them in the air. Wings flapping furiously as it growled. Glancing at Sylgja, Aela noticed the girl still hadn't moved. Making eye contact with Farkas, she nodded towards her. The three had moved away from the path, towards the river, but Sylgja had remained behind, still frozen in fear. The horses startled by the giant beast ran ahead

Farkas nodded at her then meeting eyes with his brother, they charged towards the dragon, while Aela rushed towards the brunette. She immediately tumbled back when the dragon whipped its large spiny tail around and slapped her with it. With a cry, she flew a few feet away before crumpling into a heap in the tall thick grass. Stumbling to her feet weakly, her ankle throbbing as she watched in horror; the dragon landed and kicked Farkas before releasing a fiery breath of air towards the two men and they immediately scattered in opposite directions. Leering down at the brunette, it stalked clumsily on four legs towards her again.

Sylgja had no idea what to do. She couldn't outrun the dragon, and the others were slightly too far for comfort. She was alone, unarmed, and standing face to face with a dragon. Silently, a tear ran down her cheek, as she closes her eyes, waiting, anticipating.

Something.

Nothing.

It purred gently, a chortled gurgling sound as it released a warm puff of air over her face. There was no burning, no pain. Just the hot, murky smelling breath of the dragon.

Startled, her eyes flew wide open as the dragon suddenly hissed before turning to swat at Vilkas. He promptly dodged the wings and swinging his axe with both hands upper-cutted the dragon underneath its large jaw - snapping its mouth shut. With a mighty leap, slamming the axe down into the dragon's muzzle then swinging it horizontally, he sliced it across the face. Howling, the beast stomped at him before blowing another breath of fiery air. Farkas side-stepped, slowly moving around the dragon in a half circle, goading it dragon to turn away from Sylgja. Aela, now behind Vilkas, fired an arrow then another, aiming for its large wings as it raised them to lift in flight again as it twisted around staring at Farkas.

"Run!" He yelled at Sylgja. And then she ran, stumbling over he own feet in an attempt to dodge the dragon now clawing for her smaller form. Tripping, she tumbled across the stone path and onto the grassy pasture as something rushed past her from behind.

Two arrows catch the dragon in its right wing and with a roar, it swung its tail at Aela again. She ducked, but the dragon reached out with its long scaly claws, gripping in her long red hair, and snatched her from the ground. Shrieking, she dropped her bow, while trying to free herself. Farkas rushed towards her, but Vilkas reached her first. He jumped and with a mighty swing of the axe he sliced clean through the scales and the bone of the foot separating one of the claws. She tumbled to the ground with it still attached to her. Shrieking, she pulled at her hair trying to separate the amputated digit from her long tresses. Farkas snatched the foot from her hair and pulled her to her feet as Vilkas readied himself for another attack. Shaking, Aela picked up her bow with trembling hands.

Noticing her distress, Farkas shoved her gently with his shield arm and nodding, offered her a grim smile. Aela said nothing, but nodded back before raising her bow steadily and preparing for another shot, when suddenly two more arrows fly past and pierce its soft underbelly. They hear the thunderous sound of horse hooves coming in their direction.

The dragon looked up and roared, as it flew immediately towards Sylgja, who hadn't made it very far and was now running down a stone path towards the river. Aela and the two men chased the beast, but were too far to be of much assistance. Sylgja peeked back over her shoulder panicking, as she tripped over a loose stepping stone on the trail. Glancing up she noticed a figure riding a black horse coming towards her, rushing through tall grass as the rider and horse veered from the main road. A long black cape flapped ferociously in the wind trailing behind the rider as he leaned forward on the horse, gripping a large black bow and aimed directly for the dragon's face again. His brown leather armor fitting snugly across his broad chest, secured with two diagonal buckles that intersected in the center of his chest and disappeared behind his back, hidden by the large cloak. She couldn't see his face through all the tears clouding her vision, although his brown hood hid most of his face anyway. She could faintly see his square jawline peppered with an inkling of short coarse hair that framed his wide lips, set in a grimace as he raced towards her.

The rider shot two more arrows into the dragon's face, but it didn't even flinch, blood dribbling down his snout. Mouth open wide, snapping large teeth as it chased Sylgja. Immediately upon her, it released a large bellow as it clawed toward her smaller form. Sitting up straight, he quickly secured his bow on his back before pulling tighly on the reins, turning the horse mid-step to run alongside Sylgja.

"FUS RO DAH!" His voice rasping as he hollered.

The dragon shrieked, stumbling back as it lost its balance and dropped from the dusky sky. Sylgja's hair whipped around her face, as she knelt on the ground, struggling to get up. The man had shot a giant gush of air from his mouth towards the dragon? She had never seen such magic. Gasping, the rider snatched her up onto the horse, secured by his forearm around her waist. She clung to his forearm, holding on for dear life as he quickly maneuvered the horse.

"DOVAHKIIN!" The dragon hissed.

It snapped at the black horse as it stalked towards them on three legs, one of the back hind legs was raised, the foot missing a talon. Farkas reached the beast first and promptly stabbed it in the underbelly, then dodged the large winged arm swiping for his head as blood started flowing freely from the wound. Vilkas swung from behind. Aela peeked over at Sylgja quickly as they approached, then focused on aiming for the vulnerable underside of the dragon now that they had found its weakness. Thankful for the rider had arrived on horseback. She was certain it was the stranger from not even a week ago because although he was wearing different clothes, he wielded the same black bow.

Slowing next to the red-head, and releasing the reins, he hopped down and his hood fell back, blond hair tumbling around his shoulders. Aela glanced over at him, unsure what he was doing until he grabbed her and lifted her onto the horse behind Sylgja, shoving the reins into her hands. He lifted the large golden sword out of its holster above the flank of the horse, before promptly slapping the horse's rump. With a high pitched whinny, the horse started before charging along the river in the same path that the other horses had foraged. Sylgja twisted in the saddle to peek at him as they rode away. He watched her for a moment. His slate gray orbs staring deep into her teary brown ones as she blinked slowly in recognition. He was here.

Looking away from her, taking a few quick strides towards the dragon, he arched his large sword above its snout as the large mouth opened, bellowing in pain. He kicked the dragon right in the nose before landing a mighty swing that embedded his sword in the dragon's skull. Pulling it out he stabbed into the same spot, as Farkas and Vilkas consecutively swung at the underbelly. Slicing clean through its haunches. The dragon roared weakly before sagging to the ground. Blood gushing from all the wounds, it lowered the rear hind leg slowly as it succumbed to the darkness.

A great rumbling shook the earth as the dragons scales melted off the body like wax. The girls watched from a few meters away, where the three horses now stood alert. Turning towards the dragon, his body seized by rippling rays shooting from the dragon like lightning bolts, the blond collapsed to his knees.

"No!" Sylgja screamed, sliding down from the horse and rushing as fast as she could towards the fallen man. Aela right behind her. Farkas and Vilkas, walked slowly towards him, but made no effort to do anything, they merely watched.

"Help him please!" She cried, sinking to her knees in front of his fallen form. Sobbing, she clutched at the front of his chest piece, before shoving her arms around his torso, trying to support his weight. His head collapsed onto her shoulder, causing her to sob even harder.

Straining to lift him up, she stopped suddenly when he turned his face towards her neck. She could feel his warm breath tickling her skin as his arms wrapped around her waist. Pulling back slightly, their bodies still embraced as she stared at him in shock - searching. His gray eyes twinkled mirthfully as they scanned over her face. Noticing the cut on her cheek, he reached up and traced a finger over it lightly.

"You've been cut." He murmured as he stood and pulled her to her feet. Stroking her chin gently with his thumb, he peered down into her dark eyes.

"Yes, I was struck by an arrow." She whispered back. His gray eyes widened slightly, as he ran them over her face.

"An arrow?"

Farkas and Vilkas both turned upon hearing that as well. Blushing, she glanced briefly at them then back into the blond's face. The attention and his gentle probing fingers on her smooth skin had caused her face to heat up. Peeking at Aela and seeing the girl watching her, she looked away shyly.

"Yes." Aela said, "We were attacked by a Falmer."

"And who came to your rescue?" He asked.

"I can shoot an arrow as good as any man." Aela replied. "I killed the beast with my own hands."

"You sure are a resilient little warrior." Farkas chuckled, flicking a long red tendril away from her dirty face.

"I don't doubt that for a moment." He continued.

Aela stepped back from the dark haired man, but didn't say anything. He seemingly ignored her change of mood, but didn't reach for her again. His smile never faltering as he turned towards the blond man.

"Cillian, it's good to see you my friend."

"And you, Farkas." He replied, "I thought we were meeting in Riften?"

"We were delayed by the Harbinger." Vilkas stated, "By time we arrived you had already cleared the bandit camps outside of that little mining village, although it looks like we were too late. The whole village had been razed to the ground by them."

Sylgja stifled a sob, before she peeked over at Aela, the other woman looked up, meeting her eyes. The two women gazed at each other for a moment before Aela's face hardened and she turned to stare off into the distance. Her pouty lips pursed in a straight line, but she said nothing. Cillian noticed the exchange between the women, but didn't say anything.

"We should head for Kynesgrove then we'll head for Whiterun at the first morning's light." Vilkas said, "There's an inn outside of the mining camp where we can rest since it'll be nightfall soon. If we hurry we can reach it before the darkness is upon us."

Cillian nodded before whistling for his horse. Farkas and Vilkas' mounts followed. Farkas mounted his horse before leading it over next to Aela and reaching down for her. She watched Vilkas climb atop his white steed, before walking over to him. He reached a hand down so she could climb up behind him. Farkas chuckled, although he didn't say anything. Cillian simply lifted Sylgja up onto the black mare before climbing up and settling with her between his thighs.

Then they were off. The three men navigating easily across the rough terrain. Aela held onto Vilkas' stocky form as her red hair trailed behind like a fiery blaze. Her face grim as she stared over his shoulder. Sylgja's heart ached as she thought about everything that had happened. The woman had lost her husband, her home, everything in but a fleeting moment. Cillian tightened his grip around her waist, forcing her to mold against his tight body as he leaned forward, urging the horse to ride harder, and faster into the approaching darkness.

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~Well, here it is guys. As always, thank you so much for reading and for all the lovely reviews. Keep them coming, I appreciate you all. Happy Holidays and hopefully I can have this next chapter up within the week.

~ES


	7. Chapter 7 - The Beginning of the End

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls Series, Skyrim, or any characters I've used except Greta and this version of the Dragonborn.**

Previously:

 _Aela held onto Vilkas' stocky form as her red hair trailed behind like a fiery blaze. Her face grim as she stared over his shoulder. Sylgja's heart ached as she thought about everything that had happened. The woman had lost her husband, her home, everything in but a fleeting moment. Cillian tightened his grip around her waist, forcing her to mold against his tight body as he leaned forward, urging the horse to ride harder, and faster into the night._

* * *

Chapter 7 – The Beginning of the End

The group made their introductions as they approached the inn. They had arrived just as the darkness swallowed the last bit of light in the sky. There were only two rooms available. Cillian rented the first room for him and the two women, while Farkas and Vilkas would take the other. Sylgja blushed at the thought of sharing a room with the man, but when the two women stumbled in after him. He informed them that they would have the beds and he would form a makeshift pallet on the floor.

The women protested and he just chuckled mirthlessly, refusing to dishonor either of them by claiming a bed and forcing the women to share one bed, when bad enough there were three of them having to occupy the room already. Cillian went to the small table next to the hearth and unloaded a few items from his pack. Sitting down, he removed his cloak and his hood.

Sylgja went to the bed near to the table and sat down. Peeking up at him, she fisted her hands together before gripping her forearms. Cillian looked up after he had finished and offered her a small grim nod.

"Are you cold? Give me a moment to get my armor off and I'll stoke a fire." She nodded and smiled bashfully before looking away.

She felt a chill run down her spine but it had nothing to do with the cold. She had left with Aela hoping to find some sort of answer, some sort of change from the mundane, from the mine, from the miners, and most certainly from Odfel. But, now that she had found the man that she had been seeking, she noticed things that she hadn't before.

He had a stony face. His mouth was set in a straight line, his gray eyes were cold, and although his hair was long and glistened with a healthy glow in the sunlight it only made him seem more fearsome. When he rode up on his black horse he looked more like a dark angel than a heroic knight with his cape fluttering madly behind his hard agile form. He was more powerful than she ever could have imagined and sitting here by him now, made her feel small. And it made her feel inadequate and frumpy. She had wished that she wasn't so weak.

Aela had been injured slightly but she was able to hold her own against the dragon, and she had killed the ghoulish archer that had attacked them earlier, and the Stormcloak. She had not complained once about the swollen ankle she was sporting. And although she had just lost her husband and her home, all that she had ever known within a matter of moments, she still carried herself and pushed on.

Sylgja had been injured for a much greater time and still found herself giving into the pain in her leg. She was prone to bouts of irritability because of the frustration. It was a wonder that Odfel wanted to marry her at all considering how ungrateful she had been towards the others for all the help they gave her without ever recognizing that they thought her incapable because of her own actions, not because of their own egos.

Maybe she shouldn't have left. Maybe her father was right. All she had done so far was endanger the others because of her inability to react under pressure and how afraid she had been. They were already planning to head to Whiterun though, she couldn't ask for another detour, considering the men had circled back around to Kynesgrove to accommodate the women in finding shelter for the night.

Standing, once he had removed the remainder of his armor, Cillian walked over in his trousers and a beige tunic to tend to the fire. Bending down, he closed his eyes and whispered.

"Yol."

With a sudden gust the flames roared to life and his face was swallowed by the blaze. Sylgja flinched. When he closed his mouth the breath of fiery air suddenly died and all that was left was the burning fire in the hearth. Turning to look at Aela, their eyes met and although she could see the shock in the other woman's face as she regarded the dragonborn, there was still a sense of awe.

She moved to come closer to the others but, with a hiss, stumbled as her ankle trembled. Cillian promptly stood and turned to see what the issue was. Aela wasn't sure how bad it was but told him it felt like it was throbbing. Riding with Vilkas had made it hurt even more every time her ankle slapped against his steel boots or the flank of the horse.

Cillian had her sit on the bed next to Sylgja and he went to his pack to pull out some linens. When he bent down in front of Aela, he tugged gently at the boot but it wouldn't come off. She gripped the edge of the bed so tightly that her knuckles were white as snow. Looking up into her flushed face, her cheeks rosy as she tried to control her breathing, but he knew she was in a great deal of pain. He reached for the dagger at his hip, but started when he realized it was gone.

Sylgja hesitated, feeling her stomach drop at watching the interaction in front of her. Maybe Aela was right? The man was out of her league. How many other women had the Dragonborn encountered in his travels? How many others had he spent the night with? She clutched the front of her dress in clumsy hands. The brown material was rough in her hands.

Sylgja reached down and removed the dagger from where she had secured it at her side. Holding it out, the man glanced at her briefly before taking it and cutting off the redhead's boot. Her ankle was swollen and so bruised that it looked purple. He gently removed the rest of the leather before wrapping it tightly with the linens.

"Thank you, milord." Aela whispered. He nodded, but didn't say anything.

Instead he reached down and grabbing her hand lifted her to her feet slowly. Aela stood hesitantly before taking a few tentative steps and realizing that she could move freely with a great deal of pain lessened. Brushing her long hair behind her eyes, she grinned, looking up at him proudly.

"It feels uninjured!" She exclaimed, and he chuckled before patting her arm gently.

"You fought well today for being such a novice." He said, "Who taught you to shoot?"

"My husband did."

"The one with the dark hair?"

"Aye." she whispered.

"And where is your man now?" He asked her.

"He is dead, milord." She whispered. He nodded grimly.

"I am sorry to hear that. You fought bravely, he would have been honored."

Sylgja leaned over and touched Aela's shoulder before embracing the other woman in a tight hug. Aela reached up and gripped Sylgja's forearm lightly, but she didn't push her away. He stared hard at Sylgja for a moment. His eyes studying her face, the exposed skin of her collar and her neck, and down to her meaty midsection. Feeling the weight of his scrutiny on her flesh, she lowered her eyes.

"And you, where did you think you were going?" He inquired, his light eyes calculating as he watched her squirming under his gaze.

Blushing, she peeked up at him, but couldn't catch her breath let alone find the words to speak under his stony stare. Was he angry with her? She had embarrassed herself with the way she behaved, but she had apologized for it. He had still defended her when her father had struck her so surely he wasn't that angry with her. She hoped.

"You're a bit far from home." He continued.

"We have no home." Aela replied. "We were attacked by the Stormcloaks shortly after you had left and he took a maiden from our village after killing my husband and burning everything to the ground."

"Ulfric attacked Shor's Stone?" The dragonborn questioned, "But there's nothing there for him to conquer."

Seeing the girls tense in front of him, he rephrased that.

"Not people, I meant it's a settlement, and a small one, not a hold. There weren't enough men to have been an actual challenge. That's not his style. And you're sure it was the Stormcloaks?"

"Aye!" Aela snapped. "The leader was a blonde man wearing a bear's coat."Sylgja flinched as she felt his eyes on her again.

"That sounds like him for sure, but something doesn't seem right." The girls just peered up at him, but said nothing. Aela's face was set in a grimace and Sylgja's eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

"What happened to the others?" He asked.

"Just my husband was killed and only Greta was taken. Everyone else has gone to Darkwater Crossing." He nodded contemplatively.

"Where were you going?"

"Whiterun, I was seeking the Companions assistance." Aela replied, he regarded her for a moment before turning to Sylgja.

"That's a long journey on foot. And you thought you were going as well?" She blushed furiously under his intense stare as he glared at her.

"Why? You have no training and a weak leg."

"Well, I thought-" She whispered, but he didn't relent.

"You weren't thinking. You endangered yourself and your companion by tagging along on a journey that you're not fit for."

"Milord-" Aela began and he promptly cut her off with a dark look.

"I took you home once, only for your men to attack me because you were promised to another. Do not mistake my kindness again. I have no time for traitorous women." She started sobbing uncontrollably.

Aela shifted her body, wrapping her arms around the other woman to offer some comfort. He said nothing for a moment, just watching the two smaller women on the bed. Aela had been fierce and proud, but he sensed a frailty about her that she projected onto the small brunette. Mentally he sensed the women weren't that different. Although capable physically, she had a lot to learn about the emotional aspect of warfare. Weakness will get you and those around you killed. He knew Farkas and Vilkas would aid her in whatever she needed, but they had nothing to offer the lame miner woman, other than protection, which Cillian could handle on his own.

"Get some rest. I'll see you back to your family and the Companions will escort your friend to Whiterun." He muttered before turning to leave the room.

Wide eyed, Sylgja watched him storm out of the room as she sobbed hysterically. She had lost track of how long they sat embraced on the bed. Her tears finally subsided and Aela pulled away slightly and peered into her face. Her green eyes stared into Sylgja's brown ones before she smiled gently.

"He's a brute. But an honorable one." She murmured

"Wait, what? Are you defending him?" She cried.

"Nay." She replied, shaking her head. "Just trying to help."

"I don't want help! I want to go to Whiterun with you."

"Then don't let him make that decision for you."

"But you heard him. He's a stubborn man." Sylgja protested weakly.

"Aye, I did. But you're also a beautiful woman. He can be persuaded."

"I'm not beautiful like you…and maybe he'll listen to you, but he's angry with me."

"Then fix it." Aela said, and she promptly stood up. "He's the reason you came after all."

Walking over to her bed, she slipped out of the armor she had taken, and changed into a light shift for bed. The innkeeper's daughter had provided her with a few spare linens since Aela had lost her pack to the dragon's fiery breath. The only thing recovered was Filnjar's sword. She would never have forgiven herself if that had been lost forever. She climbed under the covers and stared at Sylgja while she rested on the pillow.

Sylgja glanced back at the redhead with her hair cascading around her face on the small pillow. She looked tired, but her eyes were still alert. She was drained. Sylgja didn't even have words to consider how terrible these last two days had been for the other woman. How scared she must have been fighting that dragon. How hard she fought to protect the others. How hard she pushed away at her grief. How hard she fought to remember his face.

Picking up her small pack, she pulled out a thin clean shift and promptly changed for bed as well. Spotting the amulet as she went to close her pack, she took it out of the small sack and slowly placed it around her neck, while she fingered the bronze insignia. Closing her pack she tossed it gently to the floor before peeking up at Aela again.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"Aye, I will be." She replied. Sylgja wasn't convinced.

She went to pull her covers back when suddenly the door opened and Cillian entered slowly. She froze. Aela winked and promptly pulled the covers over her face.

"I thought you would be sleeping." He said gruffly, as his eyes razed over her face before traveling down her soft feminine body.

She wanted to hide, the shift was almost completely see-through. Aela's was a darker opaque white. The disparity between the two was simply a matter of quality. Once Sylgja paid the others for their services and the courier for the weekly correspondence with her parents she had barely anything left over. She didn't have fine linens. She was a miner's daughter. Everything she owned was dirty.

He closed the door and walked over to the small table by the fire before sitting down. He had a bottle of mead in his hand. He drank the last of it in one gulp before sitting it on the table and turning to meet her gaze again. She took a few hesitant steps and stopped in front of him. Her chest heaving with deep shuddering breaths, as she tried to calm herself. His face was level with her breasts. He stared through the fabric at the rounded globes before looking up into her eyes. The brown curls framing her sweet face were in complete disarray.

"Don't tempt me woman." He rasped quietly. "Not when I can't have you."

"Please, I would like to go to Whiterun with you." She whispered, reaching up to touch his face lightly.

She flinched when he gripped her fingers tightly, as he removed them from his skin. He glared into her blushing face, as he pulled her towards him roughly.

"You'll not fool me again with your lies, wench." He growled, his warm breath tickling the skin on her neck and her collarbone.

"I haven't been dishonest." She cried weakly. "I'm wearing an amulet of Mara-"

"I'll not fall for that again." He interrupted, "You were wearing it last time and still dishonored your virtue."

"I don't understand?" She whispered.

"What happens if your belly grows large with my babe? You're promised to another man."

"But I'm not!" She protested, sobbing as she stared into his face.

"How am I to marry another, when I'm meant to be yours?" She whispered.

Cillian stared intensely at her for a moment. He didn't say anything, just sat watching her as she continued to cry. Her pretty face was flushed as she wiped at the tears on her cheeks. He leaned in and kissed the swell of her breast before nipping lightly at the succulent flesh underneath the thin fabric. Sylgja gasped and stumbled slightly when he suddenly stood to his full height and pulled her flush against his hard body.

Faintly she could hear the bard start singing in the other room and suddenly became aware of the fact that they weren't alone. Aela was right there, but he didn't seem to care, probably thinking she was sleeping. Sylgja knew she wasn't. She peeked over at the other woman's still form under the covers and Cilian gripped her chin lightly and turned her face back towards his. His eyes shining brightly in the dim light of the room as his gray ones stared into her large brown eyes.

"If you're to be mine, you will be mine only. Even when I'm away."

"Aye." She whispered, "I've never been with another."

"Give me your amulet. I'll not have anyone coming for you." She reached up slowly and took her amulet off. Her breasts strained against the fabric as she lifted her arms.

Staring into his face, she handed it over to him. He placed it onto the table behind him before turning around and capturing her lips in a sweet kiss. Pulling away, as she clung to him, he chuckled softly. His chest rumbling against her soft form.

"I was wondering how you were faring." He admitted, tracing her lip gently, noticing that the swelling had gone down significantly.

"My father is not usually a violent man." She replied quietly. "Harsh in word, not by fist."

"Nord men are rough with their women, but I'll never strike you. You have my word." She nodded gently, staring earnestly into his handsome face.

"Get some rest." He murmured, shoving her lightly towards the bed. "We will leave early for Whiterun."

"Where will you sleep?" She questioned, peeking over her shoulder at him.

"On the floor, I'll not tempt myself with your soft body at my side." Blushing, she frowned when he chuckled before slapping her lightly on the rear as he moved to walk past her.

"Get some rest. I'll be back." She nodded, looking up into his face as she climbed under the covers, lying down gently.

He nodded back and after checking on the fire, turned and walked back into the main hall at the inn. Sylgja sat up immediately.

"Aela! He said I can come." she whispered. The other girl slid from under the covers and peered back at the brunette.

"Oh you'll come alright. I was sure he'd ravish you in that night dress." She chuckled. Sylgja threw her pillow at the other girl who promptly caught it and tossed it back.

"Don't tease me." She huffed. Aela only laughed harder.

"Goodnight Sylgja." She whispered sweetly as she lay back down. Her green eyes still twinkling.

"Goodnight." The brunette swiftly replied before falling quickly into a restless slumber.

* * *

~Alright review and let me know what you think!


	8. Chapter 8 - Mercy's Hold

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls Series, Skyrim, or any characters I've used except Greta and this version of the Dragonborn.**

Previously:

" _Give me your amulet. I'll not have anyone coming for you." She reached up slowly and took her amulet off. Her breasts strained against the fabric as she lifted her arms._

 _Staring into his face, she handed it over to him. He placed it onto the table behind him before turning around and capturing her lips in a sweet kiss. Pulling away, as she clung to him, he chuckled softly. His chest rumbling against her soft form._

* * *

Chapter 8 – Mercy's Hold

Greta shivered lightly as she stood in the stone watchtower, staring out the barred window at the soldiers gathered below in the glow of the burning campfire. Faintly, she registered the large cell door slamming shut behind her. She was startled, but would not grant him the satisfaction of watching her cower before him again. She had made that mistake once, groveling before him on her knees begging him to take mercy on her, but there wasn't any mercy to be had.

He had taken everything from her and still it wasn't enough.

Her home, her life, her smile, and her innocence…

Seeking penance afterwards he brought her food and pastries. Fine wines and the best mead, spoiled her like a bride, and when the tears finally subsided, she found a strength that she never knew existed. With that strength grew a quiet burning rage. She hated him so much. His stoic demeanor and incessant insatiability was draining. She no longer fought him.

"You wound me with your silence, beauty." The man whispered quietly from the doorway.

Turning, she glanced blankly into his youthful face with large sullen eyes. The hope had long faded and her orbs glassy like a doll's, with that unmoving stare. At one time he could have been a handsome man, but his face too hostile and his skin was too scarred.

"Why won't you just stop?" She whispered silently. "What pleasure do you get out of hurting innocent people?"

"I am not killing innocent people, we are at war! It is us against those Imperial bastards and anyone who does not support our right as Nords to worship Talos."

"The men you hurt in my village were innocent. They were not Imperial supporters."

"Aye, and they were not Stormcloak supporters either. There is no room for opposition. You are either with us or against us."

She turned away, staring back into the bleak horizon. Walking up to her smaller form, he glared down at her sternly. Snatching her chin roughly, he forced her to look into his rugged face.

"Beauty-" She pulled away from him, wincing slightly.

"You hurt me and I am not an Imperial supporter. Why do you keep me here?" He reached up and lightly traced the scar on her cheek from his sword.

"I am a rough man, but your beauty makes me weak. I simply offer you a greater life than you would have ever known in that mining camp. Bear my sons and stand at my side. That is all that I ask."

"What if that's not what I want?"

"What more could you want? I will be victorious! When I am finished, there will be no other Jarls. And you, my beauty, will be the high queen of Skyrim."

Her eyes flashed to his in shock. He grinned lecherously as he regarded her pouty lips as she gasped quickly composing herself and looking away again. He hadn't missed how her eyes had lit up at those words. She was power hungry and would do well at his side. Ulfric was pleased.

"Will you be my queen?" He asked.

"If you'll teach me to wield a sword, I will fight proudly at your side." She whispered, refusing to meet his eyes. He chuckled.

"I knew you would choose wisely. I will gladly, my sweet bride." Gripping her shoulders tightly, he pulled her to him roughly and kissed her lips until she yielded sweetly to him.

Turning, and walking from the tower, he didn't see the hateful look as she stared into the back of his head. She'd let him finish his campaign, and when he was done she would no longer play the dutiful bride. Greta had seen how the men of her village had been unable to protect her. She wouldn't make that mistake again in ever trusting a man to save her.

He would pay for what he had done to her.

And she'd make sure of it.

...

Sylgja had slept most of the way to Whiterun. Cillian held her cradled in front of him on the horse. His strong chest molded to her back and his thighs to her bottom. She could feel the dull thumping of his heart beating and the heat from between his legs, a constant reminder of his virility. Noticing that she was awake, he leaned his head down and brushed his lips gently against her cheek. The hood covered his face, so all she could see were his full lips and the stubble decorating his tanned leathery skin.

Blushing, she glanced up and caught eyes with Aela as the red head peeked over at her. She clung loosely to Vilkas now that they were at a slower trot. Her long red hair trailed down her back - dancing with each clapping footstep of the hooves on the stone pathway.

A courier had intercepted their path a while back, but other than that the trip had been uneventful. The man handed Cillian a letter and waited a moment, while he read the document quickly. The two spoke quietly before Cillian had returned to his horse and the group. Apparently he and Jarl Balgruuf had been summoned for a meeting at High Hrothgar with the Greybeards. He announced that he would meet with the Jarl first thing in the morning to discuss this. The others had asked a few questions, but he refused to speculate and only replied that he would wait and see what the Jarl knew of this request.

Stopping in front of the stables, Cillian reached up to lift Sylgja from the saddle. Setting her firmly on the ground, he glanced down into her face for a moment. The last fading rays of sunlight casting an eerie glow across his handsome face. Smiling faintly, he grasped the reins and moved the horse towards the open stall.

"You'll be leaving shortly then?" Sylgja queried.

"Aye, but you'll be in good hands." He murmured, stroking a finger gently down her cheek. Leaning into his touch, she closed her eyes briefly.

"Where will we stay?" Aela questioned.

"There is room at Jorrvaskkr, the Companions Hall." Vilkas replied.

"Aye." Farkas chirped. "We'll take you to meet Kodlak the Harbinger, then set you up with Ria and Njada the other two female recruits."

Aela nodded, "And what of Sylgja?" She then asked.

"She will stay at the keep with the Jarl's family while I am gone or in my room at the inn." Cillian replied.

"Have you no home?" Aela asked and promptly the three men chuckled. Cillian removed his hood and grinned slightly. His gray eyes twinkling with mirth as he stared back at her.

"I have a small manor, but I have been staying at the inn while renovations are being completed."

Sylgja moved closer to Aela, the two glancing at each other as Vilkas and Cillian moved on ahead to greet the men at the entrance gate to the city.

"Why can't I stay with you? Especially, since he's leaving me there while he's gone." She whispered.

"I'll ask and see if that will be okay." Aela agreed, "I don't like the idea of you being alone either."

"Farkas." Aela called, as she moved closer to the taller man. He turned and grinned widely down at her slim figure.

"Aye, milady."

"Why wouldn't Sylgja be able to stay at the hall with us?"

He glanced between the two women remorsefully before clapping Aela on the shoulder lightly.

"I'm sorry, but she can't. Jorrvaskkr is for Companions only."

Turning towards the brunette he smiled gently, peering down into her face.

"You'll be in good hands at the keep, and the inn is only a few paces away from the hall." He grinned before saluting the guards talking quietly as the group approached.

"Hail Companions!" The first guard, an older dark-haired Nord, called as he pulled a large wooden lever.

With a loud groan the huge wooden gates slid open. Turning awkwardly towards Cillian the second guard, a much younger fresh faced male, bowed quickly as the older one saluted the tall blond man approaching.

"Welcome home, my Thane."

The men nodded in greeting and promptly stepped through the large gates of the city as the last of the light in the sky slowly died. The stars, now visible, twinkled like a million pearls in the sea. Staring up into the clear darkening sky, Sylgja shuddered. She had never noticed how vast Skyrim felt at night. The horizon stretching endlessly in the distance like a smooth meandering stream. If not for the torches burning along the path to the center of the city, she would have stumbled over her own feet passing along the slight incline. She hobbled slightly as the fatigue started to set in and the muscle in her leg burned incessantly.

"The market is straight ahead in the center of the city. The inn is right behind the marketplace. You'll notice a small bridge just to the left and right beyond that is the Companions Mead Hall, Jorrvaskkr." Cillian spoke softly in the still darkness of the night. His voice echoed faintly off the stone walls of the houses and shop fronts they passed.

Turning, he placed a hand on the small of Sylgja's back, leading her slowly towards the center of the city as the twins and Aela followed. Glancing over at the Companions hall, Sylgja could see the stairs leading up to the magnificent structure. It resembled an upside down ark. There were two wooden buttresses and the doorway was covered with a large pointed awning. She watched the others walk towards the large decorated doors after they said their goodbyes. Vilkas lingered for a moment, curiously watching two women and two small children nearby.

The two small girls sat under the large tree in front of Jorrvaskkr and a woman stood cleaning up a now empty fruit stand. There was another woman leaning against the edge of the market stall in a tight blue dress. Her short red hair swept gently behind her ears. Faintly Sylgja registered the impish giggles from the children.

It was dark, but it wasn't that late. The woman stood to her full height and, shoving the large sack of fruit over her shoulder, turned towards the children as the redhead walked away from her. She lifted her hand towards Cillian in a greeting as she moved by them and touched Vilkas' arm lightly as she passed. The darker haired woman turned and swept her eyes over the stall one more time before adjusting a wooden tray on the counter.

"Mila!" She called as she started to move towards their small group, standing in the center of the market. Sylgja could see the sweat on the woman's forehead glistening in the moonlight reflecting on her pale creamy skin.

Promptly the children embraced each other quickly before the taller one ran towards the dark haired woman. The woman kissed the top of the child's head softly before moving towards a small wooden shack. The home was slightly smaller than Sylgja's home in Shor's Stone so she knew the woman couldn't have much, but her clothes were tidy and the dark woolen dress accentuated her slender waistline and tall legs well.

"Good evening." She murmured as she passed. Cillian nodded in greeting before offering to carry the large sack of vegetables for the woman. She smiled politely, but declined his offer. Vilkas promptly walked up and snatched the large bag and lifted it onto his own shoulder as he led the way to her house. Cillian chuckled lightly before grasping Sylgja's smaller hand in his own and leading her to the inn.

The child that was left behind on the bench spotted Cillian and ran towards him and the others. She hugged his firm thigh, her tiny arms clinging tightly to his muscular form and smiled up into his face as he ruffled her light brown hair softly. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a shiny green apple and handed it to the child.

"This is Sophie." He whispered in Sylgja's ear as he caressed the top of the child's head once more.

"Sophie, this is Sylgja." He murmured gently as the child peeked up at the duo.

"Is this your daughter?" Sylgja asked, smiling down at the small girl. Her wide eyes large as she stared up at the older woman watching her.

"Nay, she stays at the temple."

"Oh! Is your mother a priestess?" Sylgja asked sweetly, reaching out to the small girl, but Sophie snatched her arm away from the older woman and ran off towards the large tree. Her small form disappearing in the darkness

Cillian chuckled as they watched the little girl run off.

"I hope I didn't hurt her feelings." Sylgja whispered. "Will she be alright?"

"Aye, the temple is just past that tree. She just needs to warm up to you." He replied.

Sylgja trembled as she looked up, meeting Cillian's eyes. The muted passion blazing in his cool gaze, unnerved her. She could feel her head swimming. Faintly she registered staring into the shadowed whiteness of his smile as he stared back at her. The stars surrounding his head in the dark, twinkling like the ore in the mines. Vaguely she thought of Greta and could only hope that the gods had shown her mercy.

* * *

Alright, it's finally done. Sorry it took so long! This was a hard chapter to write. Leave me a review and let me know what you think!

~ES


	9. Chapter 9 – The War Maiden

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls Series, Skyrim, or any characters I've used except Greta and this version of the Dragonborn.**

Previously:

 _Sylgja trembled as she looked up, meeting Cillian's eyes. The muted passion blazing in his cool gaze, unnerved her. Faintly she registered staring into the shadowed whiteness of his smile as he stared back at her. The stars surrounding his head in the dark, dancing like a million fireflies in the peak of the summer. Vaguely she thought of Greta and could only hope that the gods had shown her just as much mercy._

* * *

Chapter 9 – The War Maiden

Sylgja had followed Cillian blindly into the inn. There were a few rowdy men sitting at a table in front of the hearth chanting along to a familiar tune. Cillian glanced at them briefly and nodded in greeting. The innkeeper stood next to a young bar maid behind the counter and greeted the pair as they walked in. The two women stopped talking once they regarded the pair. Sylgja felt uncomfortable as the younger woman regarded her curiously. The older woman met her eyes briefly then trailed down, lingering on her midsection. Sylgja blushed furiously, before lowering her head in shame. She had thought things would be different in Whiterun.

"You've a bit of a limp, child." The innkeeper commented, "Is she with child?" Startled, Sylgja snapped her head up before glancing over at Cillian. Her cheeks stained crimson.

"Nay." He stated, "She has a lame leg."

"Pity." The bar maid stated.

Cillian continued forward and approached the counter, but Sylgja stayed where she was. The bar maid smiled gently at Sylgja as she sauntered over. Brushing smoothly past Cillian, her fingers trailed across his back as she passed to approach the smaller brunette woman. The curvy blonde giggled as she flicked a stray tendril away from Sylgja's face.

"Who would have known that Cillian had a soft spot for damsels?" She grinned, whispering conspiratorially. "We were sure he would return home with a war maiden at his side."

"Or a maiden already ripe with child!" The innkeeper yelled as she placed two bottles of mead on the counter. Cillian waved them off and instead gestured to the barrel with fresh water.

She promptly grabbed a clean mug and filled it with drinking water for the girl. Cillian took the mug from her, graciously. Turning to Sylgja, he nodded his head towards the back stairs and she moved to follow him before smiling politely at the two women.

Cillian pushed open the door to the room gently. Setting the mug down on the table next to the small fire, he turned and opened the large chest, quickly dropping both his and hers knapsacks and the weapons into it. Sylgja stood in the doorway unsure of what to do. She hadn't been alone with him since that night. And although it had only been a week, she felt as though many seasons had passed.

He had said he was staying here, but there were no furnishings he had added to the room. In the center was a large bed adorned with warm furs and a thin white sheet. Someone had already stoked a fire and there was a small table next to it with one chair. The other chair was in front of the burning hearth. And a simple wooden dresser adorned the farthest wall.

He moved around the space quietly, approaching the dresser. Turning towards Sylgja, he glanced at her curiously as she stood frozen in the doorway.

He bade her gently, with a gentle nod.

She started to move closer, before turning and closing the door behind her. Glancing up at him timidly, she shivered under his intense scrutiny, before jutting her chin out gently and marching over to stand in front of him.

He chuckled lightly.

"Are you afraid of me now?" Blushing, she glanced up into his cool gaze. Although he murmured the question lightheartedly, she could see the uncertainty in his gaze.

She shook her head gently.

He reached up a sole finger and traced down her smooth button nose. Her eyes widened slightly as she stared up into his cool, gray, eyes. He chuckled lightly before placing a soft kiss on the tip of it. Cupping her chin lightly, he then kissed her gently, but firmly on her soft yielding lips.

He pulled his tunic off, and over his head quickly, before dropping it on the cold, hard, floor. His chest glowed fiercely in the dim light of the fire. Sitting down on the bed, he proceeded to remove his boots and untie his dark leggings. Slipping out of the constricting clothing he tossed the pants lightly to where he had dropped the tunic. His naked body, hard and eager, awaited her on the bed. He held his large, callused, hand out for her to take.

Stepping forward, she placed her hand into his. He gently pulled her closer to his hard body before standing to his feet, with his taller form towering over hers. He traced his fingers down her arms, tickling the soft skin on her trembling body. Scrunching the material of her dress around her waist, he lifted it up over her head and tossed it to lay with his abandoned clothing. Guiding her to lay gently on the bed, he pulled the leather boots from her feet and stared down at her sprawled on the warm furs with just the thin cloth draped around her womanhood.

He slipped the fabric from between her legs easily, and stared unwavering into her heart shaped face as she trembled beneath him. Her brown eyes glittered in anticipation, and with trepidation. This was all still so new. Cillian had accepted her, flaws and all, but he was still a warrior. A warrior that would be leaving her behind again…a warrior, that would always leave her behind because like the bar maid said, she was no war maiden.

"Are you cold?" He murmured softly against the skin of her neck.

"Nay, milord." She whispered.

"Will you be alright while I'm gone?" He crooned into her ear, reaching down and caressing her belly lightly.

"Nay, milord." She repeated, staring up into his dark face in the dim light as she felt the tears start to gather in the corners of her eyes.

He chuckled mirthlessly, as his mouth met hers. He kissed away at her worries temporarily. His warm breath caressed her skin, as he traced her lower lip lightly with his tongue. Gasping, she clung to him as he suddenly shifted and molded their bodies together. She grasped at his back awkwardly, clinging to his warm, hard, body as he began to thrust against her smaller form relentlessly. His long blond hair, swept over one shoulder, dusted across her cheek, as he ran his hands along her body.

Cillian was unyielding with his strong, smooth strokes. Her body burned with a great passion as she stared up into his heated gaze. Her cheeks burning as he held her tightly to him. She could sense an emotion growing in her loins, and felt herself losing control as the blaze bubbled from the pit of her belly all the way to her toes. Trembling, with a cry, she clung fiercely to him as he shuddered, groaning softly in her ear. Placing a gentle kiss on her collarbone, he rolled over slowly onto his back. He reached to pull her closer and she buried her face into the crook of his shoulder.

"When will you leave?" She whispered, her body still tingling faintly from his touch.

"By midday." He rasped gently. She nodded gently against his skin, but didn't say anything.

"It's a few days by horseback to High Hrothgar, so the earlier we leave the better."

"We-?"

"Aye, Balgruuf and myself." He interrupted. "The other Jarls will be in attendance. That includes Ulfric."

"U-Ulfric?" She stammered, raising her head slightly she tried to peer into his face.

"Aye." He muttered. Sylgja pulled from his arms and sat up promptly.

"You must make him tell you about Greta!" She exclaimed loudly. Suddenly ice cold, she rubbed unconsciously at the goosebumps forming on her forearms.

"Aye, I will." He murmured, sitting up as well. His eyes glowing faintly in the dwindling fire light. Standing, he pushed the furs back and walked over to rekindle the low burning embers.

"You must do it, Cillian!" She cried, her eyes burning into his back.

He turned to look at her sharply. As he opened his mouth to speak, she promptly interrupted him.

"Promise me you will, say it now!" She demanded, staring unwavering at him from across the room.

He returned to the bed slowly, staring down at her harshly.

"I gave you my word. That should be enough."

"It's not enough! You don't understand!" She cried furiously. He reached for the furs, to climb into the bed and she flinched slightly. He hesitated for a moment, before joining her in the warmth.

"You don't trust me? I said I would never strike you." He murmured quietly and she looked away, lowering her head in shame as her cheeks burned crimson.

Sylgja said nothing, staring down at her hands. He regarded her for a moment before lying down and turning his back towards her, facing the dancing flames.

She sat still in the cold dark night for quite some time, just watching the steady rise and fall of his body as his lungs expanded with each breath.

"I do trust you." She whispered finally. "I trust you too much to have just met you."

She touched his back lightly, and started when he turned towards her. His gaze cool and unyielding, as he stared into her large brown eyes.

"I-I'm sorry." She gasped, "I thought you were sleeping."

"Nay. I won't sleep much tonight."

"Are you afraid?" She asked gently, stroking a lock of his golden hair.

"Nay, just thinking." He murmured back.

"I am."

"I know," he sighed, "That's why I need you to trust me."

"That's what I'm afraid of. I'm afraid I'll need you too much."

Cillian grunted softly, but didn't say anything.

"I want to be like Aela because she's strong-minded, not weak like me." Sylgja whispered.

Cillian pulled her into his arms again and kissed the top of her head softly.

"She doesn't need anyone." She continued.

"Everyone needs someone." He rasped gently. "It doesn't make you weak, it makes you human."

She went to open her mouth again, and he placed a finger on her lips silencing her.

"It takes a special kind of strength to rely on someone else, Sylgja." He murmured.

Gazing up into his eyes, she was surprised by the tenderness she saw in his gaze. Swooning, she leaned into his touch as he traced his finger over her mouth faintly. He removed his finger and captured her lips in one last kiss, before lying back against the pillows.

"Get some rest, love." He whispered quietly.


	10. Chapter 10 - Jorrvaskr

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls Series, Skyrim, or any characters I've used except Greta and this version of the Dragonborn.**

Previously:

 _Gazing up into his eyes, she was surprised by the tenderness she saw in his gaze. Swooning, she leaned into his touch as he traced his finger over her mouth faintly. He removed his finger and captured her lips in one last kiss, before lying back against the pillows.  
_

* * *

Chapter 10: Jorrvaskkr and the Shield Sisters Pt. 1 

The first morning's light peeked over the wall behind Jorrvaskkr and illuminated the city in a sea of pink and gold. The residents of Whiterun were early risers, but not a soul was stirring. Aela lay quietly wrapped in the warm furs on the large wooden bed. She was alone, although two other souls lay slumbering in the nearby beds. Farkas had introduced her to the two other female recruits, Ria and Njada, last night.

Ria, with her short black hair that enveloped an elegant, tanned, face - she was nearly perfection. Her lips were full and rosy. She had light brown eyes, the color of honey. Her skin smooth and bronze, if it weren't for the bruises and cuts marring her flesh Sylgja never would have guessed she was a warrior. She was calm and wise, and as gentle as she appeared, it made Njada seem all the more ferocious. Njada had an icy gaze, her blue eyes, clear as frost. She had a blunt cut, her short blonde hair almost brushing her shoulders. The strands were delicate and straight, but the jagged style gave the appearance of being mildly wavy.

The women had peered at her curiously last night, but had asked no questions. She was thankful for the privacy, but certain that the women had experienced a great deal of pain as well. Their thoughtful, quiet speculation, hinted at a sort of understanding. Although grateful for their presence, she still felt lonely.

As much as Aela had dismissed Filnjar out of bitterness she had still cared deeply for him. His warm eyes and his quiet stoicism, was as comforting as it was overbearing. Ever since his injury she had taken a lead role, and only done so to spite him. Now, she regretted it. Wishing that she allowed herself to be softer, more vulnerable - that he might have known that she was only strong because of him. She needed him as much as he needed her. Without that motivation of someone needing her, she was afraid. She was afraid of the dark. She was afraid of the silence in the dark. She was afraid of the silence. She was afraid of being alone.

These women didn't need her. Vilkas and Farkas didn't need her. And now that Sylgja had the warrior here, she surely wouldn't need her either. Aela turned, sobbing bitterly into the sheets, her red hair pooled around her body, caressing her like warm furs. Her ankle was killing her, her body sore and stiff from the cold. She felt lost.

She wept until she could cry no more. Her face felt hot, her cheeks stung from wiping at them relentlessly, and her body shuddered with achy breaths. She sat up slowly, glancing out the small window, at the sun now high in the air. Brushing her hair out of her face, she noticed the other two had left the room at some point.

While traveling to Whiterun she had told Vilkas that she just needed some time to heal and some formal training then she planned to go with the men to rescue Greta. Farkas had glanced over at her and promised her that they would work on it. She didn't trust his cautious smiles or his brother's keen eyes. Those faint smiles didn't quite meet their eyes.

The pair reminded her too much of Filnjar. Vilkas had his mannerisms, and that same quiet awareness. Farkas, had his graciousness, and proved that with an abundance of unrequited attention. They were strong, loyal, men. And her heart ached as much as it warmed to know that Filnjar would have been right at home here with the Companions. Where he had always wanted to be.

Standing to her feet slowly, she gently pushed the furs off her lap and onto the small cot she had slept on. The other two women had made their beds nicely, but Aela wasn't sure she would spend much time out of the room, so she didn't bother.

Walking slowly, the muted pain in her ankle was startling until she allowed herself to limp slightly and remove the excess pressure. She passed through the common area that they had entered through and nobody was in there. She could hear Farkas and Vilkas arguing in an adjoining room, but she needed to be alone for a moment and continued towards the large entrance doors. Shoving gently she opened them and moved out into the brisk morning air.

There was a fountain in front of Jorrvaskkr and she quickly sat down and stared at her pale reflection in the clear, cold, water. The red headed nymph staring back at her, danced almost tauntingly in the soft ripples. Scooping a handful of the cool water, she splashed it against her face and wiped her red eyes one last time. She would cry no more.

Turning, when she heard the door's to Jorrvaskkr slamming shut again, she briefly made eye contact with Vilkas. He nodded politely at her and walked over to her, watching her thoughtfully.

"How are you feeling?" He asked. She shook her head gently then smiled ruefully.

"Better." He grunted softly, but said nothing.

Brushing a piece of hair behind her ear, she looked up into his face. She hadn't gotten the chance to really look at him without the others around. He watched her studying him quietly, but said nothing. He was as self-assured and confident as usual, but there was a battle in his eyes. It had been there when she first met the men, and she could see it burning behind his quiet composure now. Vilkas was a wolf underneath that armor and he lived for the battle just as Filnjar had at one time. It would kill his spirit to suffer an injury like Filnjar's. Regular life was simply too mundane. Would she ever become like that?

"When will I meet the Harbinger?" She asked quietly, suddenly feeling uncertain.

"Aye, I was coming to see if you were ready." He stated.

She stood unsteadily and Vilkas quickly grasped her elbow. She pulled away gently once on her feet and together they moved towards the Hall.

Aela wasn't sure what she had been expecting in a Harbinger, but Kodlak most certainly was not it. His bright blue eyes twinkled merrily at her with a youth that didn't match his gray hair or beard. His body was weak, he didn't look well, but he was very pleasant towards her despite his condition. Vilkas and Farkas stood off to the side watching the two converse. Vilkas watched her, but he still seemed upset. Farkas smiled when their eyes met, but she could see it in his face. He was worried too.

The two talked for what felt like hours. He was a gentle man and Aela had quickly grown very fond of him and his presence. He had a sadness about his eyes, he didn't have that hardness about him like most warriors she had known. Like Filnjar, although injured he was never bitter.

When the conversation came to an end, she learned that there would be no quest to test her abilities before joining. Vilkas and Farkas had vouched for her. She had successfully aided in getting herself and Sylgja to Whiterun safely, they had even battled a dragon. She could surely hold her own. He had deemed her worthy. She was dismissed and Farkas had left along with her. Vilkas stayed and gently closed the door after they left. She could hear their muffled voices faintly as the pair walked away from the room.

She glanced over at Farkas, who for once seemingly had nothing to say. His eyebrows were furrowed in worry, but when he noticed her looking at him he smiled brightly.

"Is something wrong?" She asked. "You and your brother have been acting weird since we got back."

He chuckled lightly, but the humor didn't meet his eyes.

"We're leaving on a quest for Kodlak." He stated, "But my dear woman, it's nothing for you to be concerned over."

"I'm not concerned over your safety. I'm concerned because of the way you're acting!" She hissed. He shook his head and chuckled again.

"It's been duly noted." He murmured. Aela huffed, her green eyes flashing in annoyance as she glared at him.

"When will you leave?"

"Tomorrow, but you'll have Kodlak and the others if you need something while we're gone."

"How long will you be gone?" She questioned, turning to head towards the resting quarters.

"I thought you weren't concerned." He murmured, halting his steps. She whirled around and he peered down into her small face.

"I won't be then." She grumbled and stormed away. Faintly she could hear him chuckling softly behind her as she departed.

She spent only a few minutes in the room before becoming restless and leaving. Nobody was in the dining hall, so she went out back and there Njada and Ria were scuffling, while a tall, burly man, with a mohawk sat watching them.

"Hi, I'm Aela." She stated, glancing down at him.

He peered up at her and his blue eyes were startling. He grunted, and nodded in greeting.

"Name's Skjor. The blonde over there is Njada, she's got a strong arm on her. The pretty one is Ria."

"I heard that, Skjor!" Njada growled, as she bashed Ria with her shield and the other girl tumbled to the ground.

"Yield, you've been bested." She cried as she pointed the sharp point of her sword down at the darker girl.

Ria, smacked sword out of her face with as quick swing of her shield. Njada reached down and helped her to her feet.

"You're weak to her power moves, Ria." Skjor called.

"If you can't beat them, then you'll have to be quicker on your feet and evade them."

She nodded resolutely before walking over to the practice dummies and unleashing a series of quick swings and graceful maneuvers.

Njada walked over to Aela and Skjor.

"Well, welp. Are you done feeling sorry for yourself?" Njada taunted as she peered down at Aela. The red-head whirled towards her, feeling her face grow hot.

"What did you say?" She snarled.

"I heard you last night. I said are you ready to be a warrior?"

"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't."

"Good!" Njada jeered. "Now pick your sword, show me what you know."

"I'm afraid it's not much," she admitted, "I'm a fair shot with a bow though."

Ria grabbed a bow from the weapons rack and walked over to the red-head.

"Show us." The brunette said.

Vilkas and Kodlak walked onto the veranda, just as Aela launched three consecutive arrows, one into each of the dummies across the courtyard.

"Impressive." Kodlak stated.

All three of the women whirled around. Aela beamed proudly before meeting eyes with Njada. None of them said anything.

"Now let's work on your swordsmanship skills." She promptly frowned, flushing mildly as she regarded the old man.

"Vilkas will guide you. He's the best we have."

Aela glanced into his cool gaze. Staring into his bright eyes, she smiled gently. She noticed the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly, but his lips were set in a firm straight line. Uncomfortable, and uncertain, but still she was committed to learning this time. She regretfully had dismissed Filnjar when he attempted to teach her how to wield a sword, but she wouldn't make that mistake again.

* * *

**Alright here it is. Lemme know what you think. Next chapter should be done soon.


	11. Chapter 11 - Jorrvaskkr Pt 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls Series, Skyrim, or any characters I've used except Greta and this version of the Dragonborn.**

* * *

Previously:

 _Aela glanced into his cool gaze. Staring into his bright eyes, she smiled gently. She noticed the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly, but his lips were set in a firm straight line. Uncomfortable, and uncertain, but still she was committed to learning this time. She regretfully had dismissed Filnjar when he attempted to teach her how to wield a sword, but she wouldn't make that mistake again._

* * *

Chapter 11: Jorrvaskkr and the Shield Sisters Pt. 2

* * *

"Strike!" Vilkas yelled.

"Again!"

Aela swung the blade as quickly as she could and he immediately parried it. She lost her footing and stumbled to the ground. The blade flew out of her hands and landed a few feet away.

He reached down a hand and pulled her to her feet. Her face flushed, embarrassed at her own ineptitude while the Companions simply watched and waited.

"I told you I wasn't any good." She muttered.

"You train well." Vilkas stated. "We just need to work on your form and the skill will come."

She looked up into his face, searching, but he only peered down at her gently. Filnjar had told her the same thing when she grew frustrated with her bow. That she trained well, whatever that meant. She was out of breath, frustrated, and her long red hair was wild and unkempt. When Filnjar trained, he was always calm. Surely this couldn't be it. She moved to go pick up the sword, but Kodlak interrupted.

"Patience, my child. That's enough for today." He murmured as he stepped closer.

The old man smiled gently at her, as he approached.

"You will learn and you will master the sword, just as all the others before you have. But not in a day's time."

Aela grinned lightly and looked at Vilkas he nodded his head in agreement. She curtsied graciously.

"I appreciate you giving me this opportunity." She whispered, "Thank you for believing in me."

"You certainly proved yourself in the wilderness." He stated, slapping her gently on the shoulder, "That was more than just survival. You just have to believe it yourself."

She said nothing, but stared up into his darkening face considering the words he had spoken.

"We will leave for a few weeks, but the others will be here to help you until my return."

Nodding, she smiled brightly as he returned the gesture. Letting go of her shoulder, she watched him walk away.

* * *

 **::Four Weeks Later::**

* * *

It had been a couple weeks since they had first arrived in the hold. Aela spent most of her time with the other Companions and in the brief and fleeting moments that the women saw each other, she seemed in better spirits. Filnjar's death still hurt deep within her heart, but she smiled more, and she laughed gaily when they had embraced. She had worn her hair tied back with a thin strip of linen and another wrapped around her head to restrain any fly-away tendrils.

Sylgja hadn't seen much of Cillian either. He had left with the Jarl for the negotiations shortly after they had arrived in the city, the Jarl had long returned, but Cillian still came and went. The renovations on his home had been completed so she had been staying in the small manor. She swept the wooden floors daily and once a week went to the stream with the other women in the hold to bathe and to hand wash their bedding and clothes.

Sylgja would have to go alone today. Cillian had instructed her to never leave the hold alone, but she would still be within Whiterun. There were guards along the path going east and west. The stream wasn't far and she would be back by midday if she left now. Her body had been really sore lately and she noticed her mid-section looked bloated. She hoped the warm water in the stream would give some provide some relief.

Ysolda, the slim redhead merchant, and Carlotta, the witty brunette that sold fresh produce in the marketplace, had become her closest acquaintances within the hold. Neither would be going today since Carlotta's young daughter Mila was ill and Ysolda had traveled to Falkreath to purchase supplies. Fralia Gray-Mane, the local jewelry dealer had told Sylgja and Carlotta that she suspected the woman was selling skooma, an opiate that the Khajiit were known for smuggling. She had after all been inquiring after a trio of Khajiit men that had passed through town and headed to Falkreath last week. Sylgja and Carlotta weren't convinced, but the white-haired woman was too old to bother debating with.

Standing, she grabbed a fresh dress, and shoving a few linens into her small pack she walked out the door and immediately tripped over a small figure. It was Sophie, the little orphan girl she had been spending most of her time with. The child smiled up into her face. There was a small room off the dining area that wasn't being used, she had every intention of making it into a room for Sophie, although she hadn't formally asked Cillian, she didn't think he would mind. He was quite fond of the child as well.

Sylgja had only known her for a short while, but she had greatly come to care for the child and she knew although Cillian didn't talk much in her presence he always brought the girl gifts back from his adventures.

"Good Morning!" She exclaimed. Sylgja smiled and bent down to pet the little girl on the head.

"I was looking for you!" Sophie grinned.

Her face was dirty and when she reached up to hug the older woman, Sylgja grasped her small hands and noted how filthy her hands and fingernails were.

"Sophie, when was the last time you had a bath?" She exclaimed.

The little girl shrugged, "I don't know."

"Well you'll have one today, okay?"

"Okay." Sophie nodded, her hazel eyes shining brightly in anticipation.

Reaching down she took the smaller girl's hand and closing the door behind her, walked slowly down the stone path towards the large gates. Her belly was cramping and her legs felt weak, so she couldn't wait to get into the warm water and relax.

"Sylgja!" She heard a voice yell and turning, noticed Aela and the two other female Companions walking in her direction.

She noticed they were wearing simple leggings and tunics. None of them had on armor. Aela waved and quickly jogged towards her as the other women followed.

"Aela, it's good to see you." She smiled and letting go of Sophie's hand, gently embraced the tall redhead.

"And you as well. You remember Ria and Njada?" Sylgja nodded and offered a friendly smile towards the other two.

Ria raised her hand in a quick wave, but Njada just stared at her and said nothing.

"Who is this little one?" Aela crooned, bending down to Sophie's height.

"That's Sophie." Sylgja smiled proudly down at the little girl and gently caressed her hair.

"She's friends with Carlotta's daughter. We were actually heading out to bathe. Where are you off to?" Aela and Ria chuckled.

"We were headed to the stream as well. Let's walk together."

The women moved quickly and quietly down the stone path. It was an uncomfortable silence. The insistent buzzing of insects hovering in clusters over stale horse manure. Sophie's sweet, but un-yielding voice as she sang a tune, while skipping along. Sylgja's own shallow breaths panting, as for the first time since they had been there her leg started hurting uncontrollably.

"Are you alright?" Aela asked. Her thin eyebrows arched as she stared down at the shorter woman.

"Aye."Sylgja huffed, "My leg is just being a bit of a bother."

"We can walk slower." Aela stated, while Ria nodded in agreement.

"Aye, we're used to marching with men so you'll have to forgive us." Sylgja nodded, looking up at the darker woman. Admiring the way her dark hair framed her pretty tanned face.

The women slowed down. About halfway there, Sophie started whining about her feet hurting. Aela promptly bent and lifted the small child onto her back. Within a short while they had reached the warm water. Everyone was sweaty and tired by that point and Sylgja could barely stand, her leg was aching, but she had refused to complain. All of these women risked their lives daily, helping others, and she still hadn't forgotten how graciously Aela had contained herself even when her ankle had been injured after the dragon attack.

She stood to the side for a moment, then started to undress shyly once the other women were already soaking in the warm water. Glancing up, she met eyes with Njada. The blonde was staring at her pointedly. Njada frowned, glaring at Sylgja's curvy form. Sylgja stared back for a moment before looking around at the other women, feeling inadequate. Njada's short blonde hair was now matted to her skull. Hair so fair it was only a shade darker than her creamy skin. Her blue eyes, bitter, as she pierced Sylgja with her glare.

"I think you've had too many sweet rolls. Unless, your belly grows large with his babe." She leered.

Her voice seductive, yet poisonous - biting into Sylgja like venom. Sylgja blushed, limping towards the pool of water and slowly slid into the stream with a hiss once the heat of the water enveloped her body.

"I actually haven't seen him much since we've arrived." Sylgja whispered.

"Oh dear, did you actually think otherwise?"

"Well-"

"He's a warrior - you'll warm his bed, never his heart. He just arrived this morn and already he's to leave for High Hrothgar again by midday." Sylgja gasped looking up into the woman's smug face.

"He's here?"

"Aye." She crooned, "You didn't know?"

Sylgja's face felt hot. She sank deeper into the water and frowned looking away from the others. Njada always went out of her way to make snarky comments, but had never been this rude. Sylgja knew she was no warrior and that the women had a lot of respect for Cillian, but she didn't understand why that meant that she had to be so nasty towards her.

She had already been feeling more insecure due to the extra weight she had put on. It wasn't much, but it was noticeable around her midsection and of course her now saggy breasts. Glancing down at Sophie staring up in her face, the little girl's face distorted in worry and confusion. She smiled gently at the little girl.

"Finish your bath, my love." Sophie nodded, although she kept peeking up at Sylgja, her little brows furrowed.

Ria moved closer to Njada and held up her hand, gesturing for the blonde woman to stop. Njada glared at her, but said nothing. Ria then glanced over at Sylgja and offered a small smile. Sylgja smiled back, although it didn't meet her eyes. She couldn't shake it. There was nothing but a brutal honesty behind every hurtful word the blonde threw at her. And Sylgja felt every last jab.


End file.
